Flee The Midnight Sky
by The.Velvet.Dusk
Summary: Spencer's hunt for answers begins to yield dangerous results. What happens when her overturned rocks launch a landslide? Toby and Spencer-with the help of their friends-make their final stand against -A, the NAT Club, and all that goes bump in the Rosewood night. It's him, her, and that incandescent moon. My concept of the real #WorldWarA, set after Grave New World (Halloween).
1. Chapter 1

_A/N::: Hey lovelies :) This fic falls somewhere in the hiatus landscape of Season 4, so post-Halloween episode but pre-4B._

_**Important: **there is a prequel of sorts that I posted a few weeks ago. It is a oneshot titled The Price of Silence. This will make sense either way, but that fic is about Spencer telling Toby what happened in Ravenswood during the 4A finale and the Halloween episode. SO in this fic, it is assumed that Toby knows Ali is alive! Pretty sure it won't be that way on the show, so that's why I wanted to be clear._

* * *

Her lungs burned with a wheezing pain with each hastened footfall. Tree branches reached out with spindly fingers and slapped at her, snagging and tearing and gashing. The mist swallowed her up with such completeness that she was surely safe by now. Safe, but miserably lost.

Spencer sagged against a withering trunk, gasping for breath and hoping for some glimpse of desolate roadway. Something snapped ominously from behind. It could be anything, a clambering raccoon or falling tree limb…or a killer. Or -A.

She stole out into the inky black night, the spitting rain picking up slightly as she pushed through the dense brush of forest. An abrupt stumble nearly sent her sprawling headlong into a hidden brook, but she managed to right herself just in time. She cast another long look over her shoulder. The shadows pranced and morphed and tangled together. Spencer plunged ahead, splashing through the gurgling stream and scrambling up the embankment. The terrain pitched upward. A gripping hope bubbled up through her. If it was getting steeper, maybe it was leading up to the old highway.

Cringing at the brash sound of her waterlogged leather boots crumpling through the crisp dead leaves, she slowed down enough to muffle her steps. Her panting breath left her in white puffs of vaporous air, but the outer cold couldn't touch the arctic grip of trepidation inside. She clutched at a root as she hauled herself higher up the ridge. But when the root slithered away in a menacing flash, she had to stifle a shrill scream—her palm had connected with a snake.

She scaled the bank with renewed zeal, no longer concerned with the commotion she left in her wake. This was all too familiar, but she couldn't lose her nerve yet. She could push past the terror of reliving her worst nightmare. She would escape. She wasn't a victim, not anymore.

Her internal pep talk was met with a tangible reinforcement when the gleam of a steel guard rail emerged from the pitch-black jungle of weeds and thorns. Spencer grasped it with both hands and forced her weary body over the glorious barrier that signified civilization. At least she could see the crescent moon arching into the midnight sky...she wasn't alone. He was coming.

If there was one thing she was sure of, it was this: Toby Cavanaugh wouldn't stop searching until he found her. Even if she wandered along until sunrise, he would be out there too. Him, her, and that incandescent moon.

* * *

His teeth sunk so deeply into the soft tissue on the inside of his cheek that Toby was sure to draw blood. The lumbering groan of his truck's old engine did nothing to decrease the racing pressure of his foot against the accelerator. He was going at least 20 mph over the speed limit, but that was a trivial detail. The rushed undertone of Spencer's raspy voice played back in his tortured mind. _Toby, I'm in trouble…can you come to the woods on the west end of town? I'm kind of—can you hear me? Just hurry. I…I'll try to find you on one of the back roads…"_

And then the call had dropped, along with his thrashing heart. Every muscle tensed and flexed with roiling anxiety. He had already made one solid loop in the vicinity of where he assumed she had been directing him, but it had all been way too vague. What if he wasn't even in range? What if he had misunderstood or maybe she could have been referring to some old logging roads that he wasn't seeing and…he couldn't breathe. He could already be too late. What if that phone call had been the last time he ever heard her voice?

No. If he let himself think that way, he would lose it completely and find himself pinned beneath this truck at the bottom of a ravine. He had to concentrate on finding her.

He curved perilously along the rambling pavement, a spray of gravel pinging off the sides of the vehicle. _Come on, Spence, where are you?_

A hammering beat of potential promise skirted through his wringing thoughts. Much further down the road, in a wispy flicker of his high beams…it looked like a person staggering slowly in an overgrown path along the narrow shoulder. Toby whispered a desperate prayer as he punched the gas pedal with increased cruelty. The gears shifted begrudgingly as he flew up the hilly terrain.

The slumping figure spun at the sound of his crunching tires. It was her, that high forehead and slim silhouette, the dark hair bundled back in a sleek braid—_Spencer_.

He slammed on the brakes and reached across the interior to throw open the door. She practically fell into the seat, fumbling with the handle and slamming it shut.

"Spencer, what the—"

"Go, please, we need to get out of here!"

A grimace overtook his face. She was frighteningly pale and noticeably shaken. "Are you hurt? Should I take you to—"

"No, I'm fine. Please drive, Toby, now."

Her penetrating demand was met with resolute obstinacy. "I think you owe me some explanation! What is going on? Why are you out here alone?" He pressed a hand to her quivering cheek as he examined her black ensemble with a distressed look. His other hand brushed over her dark coat and mud splattered jeans. She was soaked.

Her brow scrunched with confounding urgency. "Toby—"

"I don't know what I'm more upset about, Spence, this -A team apparel you're wearing or the fact that it's freezing outside and you're sitting here drenched. You know how this looks, right?"

Her icy hand found his and squeezed lightly. "Yes, I know, and I swear I will explain everything, but not here. Please trust me."

Toby was practically seething at her stubborn refusal to answer him, but those bottomless chocolate eyes seared his soul with their haunted insistence. When he found himself on the receiving end of that entrancing gaze, she was always sure to defeat him.

"Okay. I trust you."

A melancholy smile molded itself into the mud-streaked lines of her downcast face. He sped off into the awaiting obscurity, his gut still constricting with the coiling indication that he wasn't going to like what she had to tell him.


	2. Chapter 2

An enormous pressure lifted from Spencer's chest as he swung the truck onto Rosewood's main street. They were out of the woods, figuratively and literally. But as Toby blew past The Brew without any indication of stopping, a disquieting realization struck her—he was taking her home.

"Toby, I think we should go to your loft."

The clenching movement in his firm jaw caught her attention. "You need a change of clothes. Unless you're eagerly welcoming the prospect of pneumonia, I think its best I take you home."

His croaking tone set her heart on edge. She knew what it felt like, that crippling fray of worry. "I know, Tobes, but I don't think...I—I'm sca—"

Spencer trailed off, her stammering admission of fear being too much to express. She hated the way her vocal chords were betraying her emotions. The warmth of Toby's hand settled on the damp denim stretching over her thigh. He didn't say anything, just simply flicked on his turn signal and cut into the alley that ran parallel to their previous course.

"Thank you." It was barely a murmur, yet she knew he heard it by the way his thumb stroked over her leg in reassurance. She yearned for more contact, the frozen set of her rattling bones becoming harder and harder to ignore as she tried to sit still. He was always so warm, so stable; she needed that right now, needed it more than her typical claim of self-sufficiency. She felt like a brittle snapping twig and here he was, the imperishably solid oak tree.

He slid the vehicle into the back lot, yanking his key from the ignition without a word. She dragged herself out of the truck's cabin and dropped both feet to the concrete below. A precarious wave of vertigo nipped at her brain and she thrust a hand out against the truck frame in an effort to balance herself.

"Spencer? You coming?" He was already to the steps, his head angled back at her with a fretful glance.

"Yeah, sorry." She gulped in a calming breath and thrust forward with a few labored strides. The oppressive coldness crowded against her, numbing her head and distorting her vision. Determined to push past a second surge of lightheadedness, Spencer carefully aligned the toe of her boot to the metallic step and forced her way upward. Her eyelids just felt so heavy…

"Spence!"

The panic in his tone jarred her back to reality as she lurched sideways. Toby's arms shot out around her, crushing her to his chest in an iron grip that kept her upright. Before she could utter another apology, he dipped low enough to sweep an arm underneath her knees and haul her into a secure hold against his broad torso.

"Hey, I can walk just fine, mister." Her attempted sassiness came off feebly, even in her own ears.

He snickered, but a glimpse up into those vigilant blue eyes and she knew he was far from amused. "I'd say 'prove it,' but you already had that chance. I'll take it from here."

A weighty exhaustion seeped through her as he mounted the staircase with ease. He wriggled the key into the lock and kicked the door closed behind him. Spencer buried her head further into the crook of his shoulder, already dreading their imminent separation. But Toby surprised her by moving past the living room and straight to his bed. Another ruthless shiver scattered through her as he gingerly set her down on the soft duvet.

"Come on, let's get you warmed up." He knelt gallantly before her and began to tug off one of her boots. The friction of the saturated leather against the equally sodden fabric of her jeans made the process more difficult, but he worked swiftly to peel the shoe from her foot. She wanted to make a joke, accusing him of getting her between the sheets or something, but the chattering of her teeth blocked all efforts of lightening the mood.

Toby gasped as he removed her woolen sock, his hands instantly locking around her foot. "God, Spence…"

She peeked down at her toes, blanching at the startling purple tint that colored her skin. Toby met her eyes in shared disbelief as he attempted to rub some heat back into the lifeless appendage. He repeated his actions, moving to uncover her left foot as well. Spencer didn't look this time—his shaky inhale and curt shake of the head was enough to let her know that this one was just as bad.

"Stay here." He dropped a short kiss to her brow and vanished into the bathroom. _As if I'm going anywhere fast…_

The squeak of pipes and sudden whoosh of water sounded from the adjoining room. He ambled back in, already pulling his own shirt over his head. In just a blur of a moment, Toby had stripped each soaking layer from her clammy figure and left them in a dripping mound on his floor. After shedding his own remaining articles of clothing, he scooped her back up into his arms.

"It won't be too hot, but it's still going to hurt a little, okay?"

"Okay," she purred, her head ducking into the protection of his neck.

He stepped over the rim of the shower stall and nudged the door shut. The sting of the warm water blazed over her protesting body. She curled up tighter in response, trying to think past the shocking contrast of combatant temperatures. Toby adjusted his arms fractionally, bringing her closer into the shield of his toned abdomen. "Are you alright?"

Spencer nodded, his faint whisper acting as a soothing balm in the pound of water pouring down around them. They stayed like that for longer than she could track in her unfocused state, nearly lulled to sleep in Toby's quiet embrace. She blinked sluggishly as he murmured into her ear, "do you think you can stand?"

Cautiously sensing the loosening of her limbs and the thump of improved circulation to her fingers and toes, she nodded again. "I can try."

He lowered her slowly, watching as her feet found the floor but still keeping both arms stationed around her middle. "You got it?"

The sweet patience evident in both his voice and actions launched a smile across her lazy features. "Yeah, I'm good."

He smiled back and kissed her gently. His large hands planted themselves on her shoulders as he turned her to face the opposite wall. He started to knead her aching shoulders, earning a long satisfied sigh from deep in her throat. She frowned when he released her, but his hands promptly moved upwards, fiddling with the end of her braid and freeing the strands from the elastic that held them captive. Spencer's eyes shuttered closed at the bewitching feeling of his sturdy fingers threading into her hair and massaging her scalp. A fruity scent filtered through the steam as he gradually lathered shampoo into the tangle of her wavy locks. Her knees went weak for a much different reason than her earlier bout of dizziness.

A moan escaped her as his lips sought the back of her neck, her shoulder blade, her spine. "Mmm, Toby…"

Her vocalized appreciation seemed to have a strange reversing effect on his behavior. He pulled away immediately and began rinsing the suds from her hair. As the last of the frothing white bubbles circled the drain, Spencer whirled back around to find his eyes. She framed his face with both of her hands and stood on tiptoe to press her mouth to his.

His rough hands landed on her delicate waist. Pulling back just a centimeter, his eyes were distant as he spoke quietly. "Spence, I got caught up for a second…I'm sorry. I didn't mean to take advantage."

"You aren't. I am your girlfriend, you know." Her lips tilted to take his dimpled chin in custody.

She could feel his body's pleased reaction to the intimacy of the moment, yet his words were reluctant. "But this isn't the reason I…It wasn't my intention to—"

Spencer grinned at his difficulty in speech as she sidled nearer, her hands resting on his collarbone. "I know that, sweetheart. You are always a perfect gentleman. But I'm feeling much better now, I swear."

His voice was hoarse as he mumbled, "You really scared me tonight, Spence."

Her expression sobered as she took in the blustering sadness of his blue gaze. "I know, Toby, I'm sorry." She hugged him tightly then, knowing that exacting brand of fear a little too well. He returned the gesture, his capable arms fastening around her as they swayed in the rhythmic cascade of water. His mouth marked a slippery line across her shoulder as her hands worked to alleviate the tension in his knotted back muscles. They held each other, both needing the heartbeat of the other as much as they needed their own. When his lips finally descended on hers, it was with the molten fever of an all-consuming release.

She let out a moan of approval as he trapped her against the slick tiles and kissed her with heated passion. The dank coldness of the outside world seemed to be miles away now. His hands were everywhere, spurring a quick crescendo of need throughout her whole nervous system. Clinging to him, her true pillar of strength, Spencer gave herself over fully to rely on his intoxicating influence. This unrelenting connection was a lifeline, a beacon of love that could outshine all other darkness.

And in hindsight, she knew that these last moments of relative peace and refuge would be her steadying salvation in the storm to come. 

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_Reviews are love, people :)_  
_It may motivate you to know that I am about 5 chapters ahead in my writing, so there is certainly more on the way!_

The next chapter has Spencer's explanation of how she ended up in the woods. Stay tuned.


	3. Chapter 3

_Wow. Thank you so much for the reviews. You guys are rocking :)_

_This is a dialogue heavy chapter, but it is really the starting point for this web of a story I have mapped out. Time to find out why Spencer was alone in the woods!_

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A peel of laughter rang out from across the room and Toby couldn't help but join her. While nothing about the last few hours had been particularly funny to him, he knew she was trying to shake off the gloom that was threatening to drag her under. Too bad he was going to make her confess it all before she had a chance to burry it.

"Honestly, Toby! I'm wearing two pairs of socks, I'm drowning in a set of your sweats, and you can't possibly own another blanket. Just come to bed!"

He shook his head. "I'm pretty sure there's another old quilt somewhere …maybe I should double check the closet?"

Spencer's famed eye roll melted him at the core. "I'm going to wake up in an hour with a heatstroke. Is that what you want?"

"Yes, then I'd have surefire proof that you're warm enough. Maybe a third pair of socks would help…"

A pillow sailed toward him with pinpointed accuracy, but he skillfully dodged it. "Fine, fine, I'm coming! Hold on, woman." He turned around to double check the locks at the front of the loft, switching off the last of the lights on his way back to his feisty girlfriend. Yet upon his return, Spencer laid stock still with glassy eyes glued to the ceiling. He had been gone for less than thirty seconds, but her entire demeanor had dimmed in his absence.

"Spence? What is it?" He slipped into the sheets and propped an arm under his head as he studied her.

Her coffee-tinted eyes continued to trace the beams above. "I was supposed to be studying tonight."

"I know. I was sternly instructed to make alternative plans, remember?"

A grin twisted its way over her mouth at his intended shot of humor. "And I appreciated your cooperation. But…" His heart plummeted as her eyes grew darker and her voice thinned. "As per usual, I was interrupted."

He absently ran a hand through her drying hair. "Let me guess. Text message?"

"Yeah, but surprisingly not from -A. It was Em asking if I knew Melissa was back in town. She swore up and down that she saw my sister in a rental car coming down the interstate between Philly and Rosewood."

Toby's hand froze. "Melissa? I thought she was interning in London or something."

"Yeah. _Or something_." Her cynicism wasn't lost on him. "Emily wasn't sure if Melissa flew home to visit _or something_ and she didn't want to blow it out of proportion, so she texted me to see if I knew she was here…if it was a family thing, or someone's birthday…or if it was _something_ else."

He waited in silence, knowing that she needed to work at her own pace on this one.

"I called my mom, asked her if she'd talked to Melissa lately. Nope, nothing out of the ordinary, Melissa says London is wonderful and she'll try to make it home for my graduation in May. **In May!**" Spencer pressed her palms to her eyes. "For once I wish I could just believe one thing that comes out of that conniving mouth of hers."

"She's here then? You saw her?"

A mirthless chuckle sounded from behind the veil of her hands. "Yep. In the freaking flesh. I baited her— locked up, faked a trip to Aria's house, parked my car and everything. But then I cut through a bunch of backyards and slipped back in through the side door. I knew if I waited her out for long enough, she'd slink into the barn when she assumed no one would be home."

"That's a bold move, just dropping in like that." His arm collapsed over her flat abdomen, pulling her nearer.

"That's my sister. Insatiable sense of entitlement from the time she hit pre-K." Her hands fell away from her face as she nuzzled her legs into a web with his.

He watched her attentively, afraid of the heavy toll the evening had taken on her frame of mind. "And how did this stakeout move from the house to the woods?"

"Well she waited till dusk to slip out, and then went off on foot toward the DiLaurentis house. I didn't want to lose her, but I wasn't sure if she was meeting someone there or if she was headed to wherever she stashed the car…"

"What, you thought she flew back from Europe to join Mrs. D's sowing circle?" He smirked at her with narrow eyes, but inwardly he was steeling himself for the worst.

Spencer swatted at his side impatiently. "No, but we know someone was bunking in that basement—CeCe, Ali, or someone else with an affinity for the red trench look. But either way, a lot has gone down in that house…and in that yard. So I threw on some dark clothes and took off down the sidewalk, knowing she would stick to the back way. Sure enough, I could hear her whispering to someone on the other side of that godforsaken gazebo."

Swallowing slowly, Toby tried to shut out his irksome protective impulse; it had already happened, so there was no sense blowing up on her now. "You didn't see who she was with?"

"No, definitely a female voice, but it was too muffled. Melissa, on the other hand, was just peeved enough to raise her voice a few times. I still couldn't make out much of what was being said, so I decided to switch gears and make better use of my situation."

He arched a suspicious brow. "Meaning?"

A devious grin painted itself across her face. "Meaning I took a peek around and found a rental car parked on the side street."

It was his turn to cover his eyes with a frightful hand. "Please, **please**, don't say you got in the trunk or crouched in the backseat."

"Oh, come on Tobes, you know I'm slyer than that." She pried his hand away and held it in both of hers. "The trunk was unlocked, but I didn't climb in—I hid my iPod under a loose part of the carpet."

His confusion must have been scribbled plainly in his eyes, because she quickly jumped back in when he didn't respond. "I have an app that tracks lost devices. As soon as Melissa and her little cohort took off again, I could follow their route on my phone."

"Has anyone ever told you that you're too smart for your own good?"

He inwardly smiled at the brightness that flashed in the depths of her chocolate orbs. "Yes, and I've never thought that expression made any sense. Of course it's for my own good."

"Hmm. I tend to disagree." He left a delicate kiss on her upturned nose.

"I'm choosing to ignore you. So as soon as they left, I called a cab—"

"A cab?" His eyes widened in horror. "Spencer, we live in Rosewood. We don't have cabs, we have one ratty, flea-infested, sorry excuse for a taxi company that's run out of a seedy halfway house! Why didn't you call me or at least one of the girls?"

She was quiet for a long moment before replying. "Because I was determined to go and I wasn't about to spend 15 minutes convincing you or anyone else that it was a good idea."

"It wasn't a good idea! How many more disasters will you weather before you learn that lesson!?"

He instantly regretted the harshness in his tone. Her face stiffened as she sat up against the headboard and distanced herself from his hold. "This is more than A to me, okay, this is my family. I shouldn't have to justify that to you."

"I'm sorry, Spence. I get that, I really do." He mirrored her position, sitting up and angling his body toward hers. "It's just…sometimes I wish you weren't quite so fearless. It could have been a trap. I don't like the idea of you being out there alone…_again_. Not when you don't have to be."

Her posture softened and she brushed her fingers reassuringly across his cheek. "You're right. I know you are. I'm just too stubborn to admit it usually."

"Don't I know it?" He scattered a few kisses over the crown of her head. "Alright, please continue. I'll try to be quieter."

She cocked a mischievous eyebrow. "We'll see how long that lasts. The 'ratty, flea-infested' cab came in less than five minutes and I told my toothless chauffer to head west toward the old train station…I'm pretty sure he thought I was out of my mind, but I told him I'd pay double the rate if he'd speed."

"Spencer!"

"Ah, ah, ah, you said you'd be quiet!" She put a fingertip to his lips with a triumphant grin. "Money talks, Cavanaugh. The GPS tracker had stopped moving by the time we hit the city limits, so I had him drop me off on the outskirts of that trailer park where Mona's RV used to be. By the time I pushed through a half mile of foliage and found them, there were two more people in the mix."

His hand circled her wrist and drew it to his chest, his fingers intertwining with hers. "Two? Please say you recognized them."

A defeated exhale blew out of her. "Only one of them…they were all huddled close together and it was so dark out there…"

"AND? You're killing me here, Spence!" His hand squeezed hers reflexively.

"I doubt you'll be surprised…"

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_Slight cliffhanger! Keep the reviews coming or -A will be after you..._

_but not really._


	4. Chapter 4

_hiiii._

_I really planned to update before this, but things have been mad._

_1. Thanksgiving hit and we have company and family stuff and that has kept me super busy...but happy :)  
2. I tried to update yesterday morning but had some issues with my laptop. GRRR.  
3. Totally unrelated but wowww just saw Catching Fire and holy mess. I'm fangirling times a million._

_HERE IT IS. Yes I am ahead in my writing, but I am trying to stay ahead in my writing...which means I have to keep doing the writing to keep up with the posting hahaha. Love you all! Enjoy._

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"AND? You're killing me here, Spence!" His hand squeezed hers reflexively.

"I doubt you'll be surprised—Dr. Wren Kingston, looking rather agitated and a bit crazed." She watched him cautiously, biting down on her lip uneasily.

Toby couldn't withhold his venomous growl. "I'm never letting you within a hundred feet of that lowlife creep again. No, better than that, I'm leaving now to hunt down that bastard and smoke him out of whatever hole he slunk off to, I swear I—"

Her hands latched on to his shoulders and tugged him back against the headrest. "You aren't going anywhere tonight, so calm down. It's almost 2 in the morning."

"I don't care what time it is, this guy has been in your house, has k—"

"Please spare us both and quit there. As much as I love Caveman Toby, you need to chill out. We still don't know how he ties in to all of this, so there's no need to go off the deep end." Her tone remained level but her eyes were a little frantic as she tried to stabilize his reaction.

He focused on the ability to breathe, a hot white anger still fighting within. "But he_ is_ involved."

"Yes, and so is Melissa." She smoothed back the side of his bristly hair with gentle fingers. "Are you going to march off and rip her apart too?"

"If you wanted me to, I would. In a literal heartbeat."

There was a slight twinkle sparking in her mocha gaze. "I love you, Toby Cavanaugh. I really, really do."

"I mean it! Just give me the word and I'll make sure she stays in a different time zone for the rest of our lives." His characteristically calm demeanor was gradually returning, but somewhere in his gut he knew his brash declarations were true. He would do anything to ensure Spencer's safety, violence included. Delivering such an attack to the irksome doctor would certainly come with an additional bonus of retaliatory enthusiasm.

She nestled her face securely against his shoulder. "I'll keep that in mind. For right now, all I need is you...here with me."

Sighing with resignation, he folded his arms gratefully around her thin frame. She was safe and sound for the moment, and that still counted for a lot. "Fine. But I don't like this. If it escalates—and I'm not kidding here—if it escalates, even fractionally, I'm resorting to guerrilla warfare. I'm tired of playing safe and sitting on the sidelines. This has gone on for far too long."

"Toby…you've hardly sat on the sidelines…" her whisper slid harmoniously across his skin, but it was difficult to truly bask in her presence when he had such an abstract conflict on his mind.

"Whatever I tried in the past, it wasn't enough. There was too much waiting around…I'm talking all guns blazing, going rogue, and ending it for good." He ground his teeth together as he pictured Spencer hunkering down behind a tree and eavesdropping in stealth mode. It wasn't right, he couldn't keep letting this happen. "We've always been on defense in the past. I'm ready to play offense."

Her head leapt up from the hollow of his neck. "And you just got done telling me that I'm too fearless? Listen to yourself! This isn't a game, okay? Do I need to remind you of the accumulating death count in this town?"

Spencer's expression wavered on the brink of a critical breakdown. She had to be exhausted after the night she'd had, and he was hardly alleviating any of the residual tension that was bearing down on her. "I'm sorry, baby. I'll dial it back, okay? This just gets me riled up, but it's just talk…nothing more."

Her eyes tapered into skinny slits. She was surely measuring the truth in what he had said, but she seemed to accept his assurances as she flopped back limply against the heap of pillows. "Promise me you won't sneak off when I fall asleep. I can't handle the thought of you making mafia hits all over town."

"I promise you." He hovered above her on propped arms and captured her lips in a sealing kiss.

She kept her solemn eyes trained on him. "No floating Wren down river in a pair of cement shoes."

His mouth fell open in an abrupt laugh. "Darn it, Hastings, you ruin my best plans."

"Someone has to diffuse you. For all we know, he could be innocent. We've all had our fair share of condemning situations, haven't we?"

"Yeah, he's innocent and maybe Mona is actually a girl scout," he returned with a quick scoff.

Spencer just smirked back up at him with a roll of her gorgeous big eyes. He dropped another kiss to her lips, then leaned across to switch off the lamp on her nightstand. She hummed in languid contentment as he wove his arms around her once more and pulled her snugly to his side. An elapsed silence fell over the black room as their breathing fell into sync.

"Spence?"

"Yeah?" she returned lethargically, her arm draping over his chest.

That old transfixing anxiety roiled through his insides as the mental image of her nerve-racking night nipped at his conscience again. "You never finished about earlier…did…did anyone see you? When you called, it didn't sound good…and…"

A shiver racked her body. He rubbed a soothing circle pattern into her back as she cleared her throat. "I don't know for sure. I…I think Wren might have. That's how I knew it was him, he…"

"What, sweetheart? What happened?" Toby swallowed against his rising emotions.

Her voice flattened to a deadly whisper. "A twig or something snapped from behind me. He was the only one who glanced over to look…and I'm not sure. It _felt_ like his eyes were boring a hole into my skin, but after what seemed like an eternity, he just turned back to the rest of them."

His arms tightened on their own accord. "And then?"

"I really don't know…as soon as he turned away, I crept backwards…I didn't want to stick around in case…well anyway, I called you as soon as I was out of hearing range. After the signal fizzled out, I thought I heard voices getting closer again and I took off in a sprint, praying I'd find the road."

"Which you did," he said with obligatory levity.

"Yes, I did. Lucky for me, the cavalry swooped in and picked me up." Her hair fanned out in perfect dark waves as she burrowed deeper into him.

He let out a long, rickety breath. "I'm so glad you called. So, so glad."

"Me too." Her voice was uncharacteristically small as another sweep of fatigue drew her under.

Toby forced his eyes shut, hopelessly attempting to exorcise his brain of all lingering trepidation. She was safe for now, and that needed to be enough.

But those harrowing thoughts continued to nag at him.

_What if Wren had seen her? _


	5. Chapter 5

_Imagine the big ole panic attack I had when I couldn't find my flashdrive last night. I thought I'd have a mob scene on my hands...and then it appeared! The result? Some Spoby cuteness for you all!_

* * *

Rays of affable sunshine beamed across the room as Spencer stirred from the depths of tranquil slumber. A cavernous yawn overtook her as she blinked at the empty pillow beside her. Frowning, she propped herself up on dissenting arms and glanced around for signs of her beloved boyfriend. Nothing.

Rubbing at her bleary eyes, she meandered over to the bathroom and squinted into the mirror. A girlish giggle rose up in her throat. A post-it note was clinging stubbornly to the sleeve of her borrowed sweatshirt. Peeling it off with a grin, she read—_S, I'll be back around 10. Love you, T_.

Just the look of his scrawling message made her blush with happiness. It was ridiculous, and she knew it. Toby Cavanaugh made her heart flip and sputter like no one else ever had, not Ian or Alex or Wren.

_Wren._

Her silly elation evaporated as a grisly reenactment of last night shimmered behind her eyes. She worked to still the tremor in her hands as she reached for her designated toothbrush. The way his protracted scrutiny had focused in over the canopy of leaves and branches…her whole body had locked up as her heart had plummeted to her toes. At any moment, he would surely call out and—

But the slamming force of her pulse was all for nothing. He casually turned away, his attention zeroing in on whatever the person next to him was saying. The deafening rush in her ears had subsided as she noiselessly snuck away.

She rinsed the froth down the sink and stared at her reflection. There were a few faint scratches fading into the jumble of knotted hair that bordered her pale face; the skin under her eyes was practically transparent, the murky edges and path of veins pairing together to give her a gruesome appearance. As she bent to wash her face, she allowed a welcomed reminder to sink in—it was fortunate that she wasn't much worse off…like in a coffin.

Just as she began to pat a towel along her pronounced cheekbones, the creaking of the door stilled her motions. "Toby?"

"It's me." A smile of relief blossomed over her mouth. With more than a year of torment under her belt, it never hurt to check who was walking through the front door. She padded out into the main room that served as both a living area and kitchen.

"Hi there, handsome. Care to share that liquid heaven?" She gestured at the travel cup of The Brew's house blend residing in his hand.

"I guess…since I bought it for you anyway." He handed it to her with a wink and pulled her into a sideways hug, leaving a sweet kiss on her forehead.

She took a long gulp, basking in the mixing of her two favorite scents—strong, dark-roasted coffee and woodsy masculinity. "You are a dream, you know that? An absolute dream."

He chuckled, the vibrations of it rumbling against her head. "And here I thought I'd be in trouble for ducking out this morning. Coffee is your ugliest vice and my best bargaining chip."

"See this is what I'm trying to teach you. Bribery is golden, my friend." She leaned up to peck his lips in gratitude, then pinned him with a pensive look. "But I do want to know where you've been."

"I had to swing over to the Aurand place on Shaw Avenue and pick up some equipment my boss left there. We had a delivery this morning and he needed more installation stuff than he'd estimated."

Her brow knit together with concern. "Toby, you had to work this morning?! Why didn't you say something last night, I would have gone to Aria's or H—"

He cut back in with a shake of his head. "I'm supposed to be off today, he just called for a favor. It wasn't a big deal."

"Still, I kept you up half the night and—"

She was silenced by the pressure of his lips on hers. He ate up her words with fervent desire, leaving her spinning and dizzied. When he inched away, his eyes were glinting with smug pleasure. "I'll take a nap later if it will make you feel better. I'm fine, but just know that I will revoke your coffee privileges if you are already this high strung without the addition of caffeine. "

"You wouldn't," she gasped, shuddering dramatically.

"I would. You've been warned." He turned his attention to her jawline, traveling along the planes of her face with an eager mouth. Spencer's eyes drifted shut as a familiar heat raged to the surface. Her gratification halted, however, when Toby tersely wrenched himself away with shortened breath.

"What's wrong?" His azure gaze trailed over her skin, a puckering contour creasing between his eyes. "Tobes? What is it?"

The pad of his thumb drifted over her chin. "Are these cuts from last night? I didn't see them before."

She shrugged noncommittally. "Yeah, I noticed them this morning…I was running through the woods, I'm must have collected a couple little marks along the way."

"Was it…did it remind you of…" he rubbed a weary hand over the bridge of his nose.

"Yeah, I'd be lying if I said it didn't dredge up some memories." Her voice was senselessly small as she blinked away a murky sense of rotten nostalgia. Her eyes examined the lid of the travel mug, desperately wishing to erase the guilt that was obviously seizing his conscience.

His fingers dusted across her cheekbones. "I'll never leave you, Spencer." The softness of his supple lips whispered against the aggrieved scrape lines, taking the place of his fingers and lightly sweeping over her skin. Tears gathered under her lashes as she reveled in his healing touch. This was so much better than another broken apology. Her hands bunched the fabric of his tan jacket as she was overcome with love for him, her heart bursting with adoration.

"Say it again."

Toby arched marginally backward, those piercing blue eyes gushing with a complex set of sentiment. "I'll never leave you. I'm yours, forever, no matter what. But don't you dare leave me either, Spencer, or I..."

The rich tone of his voice wavered and crashed, the burden of his speech catching up to him. This time she was the one to reunite their mouths, her hands gripping at the back of his head with need. Part of her knew it was unhealthy, this indispensable reliance she felt when she was with him. They were too young for such an intense bond, yet life's darkest circumstances had irrevocably fused them together. Their souls had melded into one and sometimes she was sure there was no difference in where he ended and she began.

Spencer panted as Toby angled his head to trail open kisses along her neck. His voice rumbled against her throat—"Say it back."

"Hmm?" With the way he was gently capturing her skin between his teeth, it was all she could do to keep her legs underneath her. How was she supposed to decipher actual words?

"Tell me I won't lose you." His command was gruff and low, sending a blast of shivers over every inch of her.

"Oh, Toby." Her hands framed his face as she met him in a tender kiss. "You won't ever lose me."

"When we're apart…I…I just…" he shook his head weakly.

She smiled sadly in understanding. "I know. Me too. It's not good."

He sank into the couch, pulling her with him. "That's why we have to stay on the same page. You purposely kept me out of the loop last night until you had no other choice and that's the kind of thing –A uses against us."

There was no anger or resentment in his words, only a tiny tremor of detectable fear. "But Toby, I already told you…I knew you'd try to talk me out of it and that wasn't an option for me."

"Are you saying we're stuck in a stalemate?" His solid arm enveloped her shoulders.

She sighed, her fingers playing with a loose button on his shirt. "I guess so. A Catch-22 sort of dilemma. "

"Let's make a deal."

Her eyes flipped up to scan his face. "What sort of deal?"

His gaze met hers with an impish glow. "We'll call it the 30-second pitch. It will be our guideline for future covert ops and other such danger."

"I like the sound of that!" Finally—her debate team prowess would have some actual application.

She was relieved to hear him laugh openly at her enthusiastic reply. "You are such a nerd, Spencer. A hot nerd, but still a nerd."

"Just explain the deal, Cavanaugh. No sass." Her sardonic glare and vicious poke to his ribs only spurred his amusement.

His other arm wound around her so she was fully trapped against his chest and halfway in his lap. "Alright, this is how it'll go. When we encounter a gridlocked scenario, I have 30 seconds to state my objections to whatever harebrained scheme you've concocted—you know, something like 'I think we should stumble into A's lair blindfolded with our hands tied behind our backs while ghosts of the N.A.T. Club throw fiery darts at us.' You must listen and rationally consider my protests."

"That was hardly free of sass," she grumbled with a furrowed brow.

"I never agreed to that condition. Now once you hear me out, you have 30 seconds to form a rebuttal. Then we objectively declare a winner and move accordingly."

She tilted her head skywards and immobilized him with a scowl. "Why does this entire proposal present me as the harebrained schemer and you as the sensible objector? I think we've equally shared those roles in the last several months."

"It was hypothetical." The quirking of his lips contradicted his placating words.

"Yeah, I bet." Spencer squirmed her way up to sit higher in his embrace, putting her at eye level with his teasing expression. "Other than my oppositions to the satirical phrasing of this venture, I must say that I approve of this deal you've developed."

"Splendid." He feigned a business tone to match hers. "Let's make it official."

They leaned in for a sweltering kiss that quickly escalated to include shuffling hands and low moans. Just as Spencer had his shirt unbuttoned and partially free of his arms, her phone chimed spitefully from the table.

"Ignore it," Toby muttered against her pulse point.

"Mmmhmm." Her hands dawdled over his defined abs. He exhaled appreciatively and dove lower to mark her clavicle.

Her text alert pinged again. She fought to turn her brain off, trying for once to live in the moment.

But then it sounded a third time.

"Toby…"

He grunted, his hands clamping down on her shoulders.

"I didn't go home last night. It could be my parents."

His head fell back dejectedly against the couch. "Fine, go check it."

"Thank you," she said with a final kiss.

She felt his eyes trailing her path as she scurried off of him and scrolled through the interfering messages. A swift glance back to the couch confirmed it—he watched with baited breath, a conflict lining his flawless face.

It was if he knew without looking.

"Hey, Tobes? Ready to test that 30-second pitch idea?"

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_hmmm wonder what that text said...things will begin to intensify from here, so be prepared. One of the other liars (probably my favorite after Spence) will be featured in the next chapter! _

_All reviews are appreciated! And some of you guest reviewers are really getting creative in your attempts to motivate me-which certainly brings a smile to my face and often a laugh too. Love it. Thanks friends :)_


	6. Chapter 6

**_Reminder! _**_There is a sort-of prequel one-shot that frames this story. It is called **The Price of Silence**__ and the important part of that is-Toby is aware of the fact that Alison is alive. Spencer doesn't want to tell him but she knows that she can't keep that secret from him. I'm only bringing this up because it is mentioned in this chapter! If you haven't read it, I would love for you to do so but this fic can stand on its own as long as you keep that in mind. Thanks :) _

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"Please tell me you plan on lightening up at some point. That grimace of yours will bring the whole party down."

He rolled his eyes up to greet the moon as Spencer slipped down from her perch in the shotgun seat of his truck. The beginnings of a headache were already thumping at his temples as the monstrous boom of the bass throbbed from across the dusty lawn. "What? Do you have a monopoly on the title of sore loser? I'm not allowed to wallow in my failure?"

Those cavernous dark orbs of hers taunted him as her thumb brushed along the line of his jaw. "Aww, I'm sorry, Tobes. I know the 30-second pitch was your idea, so losing in the opening match must have been disappointing. Shame on me for being insensitive."

"Don't patronize me, Hastings. This is just round one. You just wait until next time, you won't even know what hit you then." Toby pressed closer, trapping her against the metal frame of the truck and doing his best imitation of a menacing glare.

"Oooh, I love trash talk. It gets me all hot." She stood on tiptoe and kissed the corner of his downturned mouth. "Have I told you how good you look tonight? All that bad boy brooding _and_ a leather jacket? Damn, I'm lucky."

He shook his head with a flicker of a grin. "You could smooth talk yourself out of anything, couldn't you?"

"Yes. And when that doesn't work, there's that whole actions speaking louder than words cliché." Her fingers worked through the hair at the nape of his neck, pulling him down to her lips for a full-on kiss that melted through her taut layers of anxiety. For a fleeting second, Spencer allowed herself to imagine that she was a typical high school senior attending a run-of-the-mill party just for the sake of having fun and reveling in the teenage experience. Too bad it was never that simple.

"Are you two coming up for oxygen any time soon? I only dragged myself out here for the promise of espionage, not an HBO rerun."

Toby jolted backward and glanced over his shoulder. Hanna stood with a hip popped out in the air, arms folded, and head thrust to the side. Although her tone communicated a level of mounting annoyance, the mischievous twinkle in her eyes said otherwise.

"Hanna? Did you just say espionage?" Spencer's croaking tone was incredulous, causing Toby's face to split into a wide smile.

The blonde took a defensive step forward. "Hey, I've seen a James Bond movie before, Spence. I'll watch anything with Halle Berry in it."

Spencer cocked a sardonic eyebrow. "Because if anyone can rock an orange bikini…"

"Right?!" Hanna nodded eagerly. "Her skin tone is literally perfection!"

Toby cleared his throat, eager to derail this conversation before it could unravel into a Seventeen Magazine analysis. If there was a friendship that he simply couldn't comprehend, it was Hanna and Spencer's. They seemed like such polar opposites, yet that was why he was glad they had each other. His girlfriend certainly needed some lightheartedness thrown in the mix.

His hint was well received—Spencer grinned up at him in amusement before turning back to her friend. "Did you hear from Aria or Emily?"

"Aria, yes, she's on her way. Emily can't come. Her mom is dragging her along to another meeting with their house contractor guy." Hanna frowned down at her phone as if it were an actual manifestation of Mrs. Fields.

"Okay, we'll have to do this without her." Spencer squared her shoulders. "Shall we investigate?"

Toby's arm reflexively snagged around her waist. He couldn't help but cringe at the thought of waltzing into Noel Kahn's seedy cabin rave without a bit of strategy. "Do we have some sort of plan here? That text was pretty vague…just because it wasn't signed from –A doesn't mean it's something we should blindly trust."

Hanna tensed visibly, her gaze darting sharply from car to car. "I agree. If someone really wants to help us, why be so secretive about it? When has a unanimous text ever led us to actual answers?"

"I think you mean anonymous, Han. Look, I'm just as suspicious as you guys are, but what if we ignore it and it's actually legitimate? And…" Her words fell to a lower octave. "And it could be Alison. We haven't heard from her since that night in my backyard. She said she needs our help. Ending her nightmare could mean ending ours too."

Hanna snickered caustically. "Well apparently that won't happen tonight. Being anywhere near Noel Kahn and his den of thieves _is_ my version of a nightmare. Last time I slummed around this place, I practically lost a limb. It's a good thing we have a doctor on speed dial."

Spencer's dark eyes shot up to meet Toby's probing look. She hadn't told anyone else about the prior night's excursion and he knew better than to voice his personal opinion of the 'good' doctor.

Misreading the wordless exchange, Hanna cut back in with a hasty apology. "Sorry, word vomit, I don't know why I brought him up. I've been told that my ability to read social cues could use some work."

"No, Han, it's not that…" Spencer swallowed slowly. "I just…I think we need to be more cautious with who we run to from now on."

Hanna huddled closer with a bewildered expression, her voice in a stage whisper. "You think Dr. Wren is on the sketch list?"

"Maybe."

Toby snorted. "Definitely."

A chastising elbow landed somewhere between his ribs. Hanna opened her mouth with the beginnings of another question, but Spencer beat her to it.

"We shouldn't be talking about this here, okay? Later. For now, I say we walk in like we're here for the free beer and the obnoxious Ke$ha music, but keep your eyes open for anything shady. Stick to crowded areas, no wandering around in the dark alone, and stay in communication. Let's cross our fingers and pray to God that we actually have someone on our side for once."

Hanna drew a wobbly breath. "I'm way too jaded at this point to believe that's a possibility. What did this text say again?"

Spencer cast a cagey look toward the thumping mass of people surrounding the cabin as she retrieved her phone from her pocket. "Here it is: 'I'm ready to talk. Come to Noel's party tonight & I'll find you. There's a lot you don't understand.'" She heaved a weighty sigh and shifted unevenly over a gray gravel road. "Hanna, why don't you wait around the door for Aria while Toby and I scope out the inside?"

"Sure thing, boss. Go get your dance on with the boyfriend. I'll whimper around like a lonely puppy until short stuff gets here." She set off toward the cabin, a spunky jolt in each step despite the spikey stiletto heels that were less than suitable for their woodsy surroundings.

"Is she okay?" Toby took Spencer's hand in both of his as her sad mocha eyes trailed her friend.

"Yeah, I think so. She's taking Caleb's indefinite absence harder than she'll admit."

He begrudgingly went along as Spencer pulled him toward the mob of partygoers. "I miss him too. Maybe I'll save her a dance since we had _so much_ _fun_ the last time that happened."

"Admittedly not one of my better ideas," she threw back with an apologetic frown.

"And on the subject of bad ideas," he slowed their pace and steered them past an inebriated girl screaming into her phone, finding a patch of barely adequate privacy. "Listen, Spencer, I know you want answers—for Alison, for you, for your friends—but what if…"

Toby released a sharp breath and allowed his vision to stray across the canopy of stars above. He felt Spencer step closer, her fingers casually grasping at the sleeve of his jacket. "What, Toby? Just be honest, what are you worried about?"

"I'm still a little skeptical about all of this. Alison showed up and said she needs help, then just vanished? Ever since that night, you've worked on overdrive, dwelling obsessively, trying to piece it all together. But how can you know _for sure_ that she—"

Spencer's hand fell away from his arm as her eyes widened. "Not this again! We already had this conversation and you said you understood. I get it, alright, I do. She could be so cold and I know she hurt you and a lot of other people, but that was only one side of her. She was my friend and if there is something I can do to help her, then I'm going to do it."

Unbelievable. As much as he typically respected Spencer's steadfast sense of loyalty, this was simply beyond his empathetic capacity. "But in all this time, she's been waiting on the sidelines while the four of you have gone through absolute hell. She disappeared and let you suffer the consequences of her actions. What kind of friend is that?"

"No one forced you to come tonight. We—" she gestured toward Hanna who was obliviously digging through her purse several feet away—"can do this on our own. We have been for a long time now."

She was deflecting from his actual point, but the passive challenge still managed to nick a vital artery. He wished the statement hadn't been true, wished he could say he'd been there every step of the way. "Spence, that's not what I'm saying. I want to be here. Forget I said anything, okay?"

Her forehead creased as she burrowed in with a stubborn shake of her head. "And what about the next time this comes up? I know you're just being protective, but you won't change my mind on this one."

"And you won't change mine either." Toby bent to kiss her temple, his tone softening in hopes of easing her rigid posture. "I'll just have to remind myself of the rather insightful thing you said back at the truck."

He was relieved to observe a light crinkling in the corners of her eyes. "Which was…?"

"Ending Alison's nightmare could mean ending ours too. I'm not sold on the idea of throwing ourselves in the line of fire for her sake, but I want this to be over at almost any cost. "

"That," she whispered in a kiss against his cheek, "is something we agree on."

"Good. Now let's snoop." His arm wound securely around the narrow circle of her waist as he propelled them up the neglected wooden steps and past a smirking Hanna.

"Watch out for the roofies, love birds!" Her bantering word of caution somehow managed to reach them in spite of the blaring lyrics and monotonous beat that only increased as they passed through the threshold of the cabin.

Toby's chin jostled against the smooth skin of Spencer's brow as he tucked her closer. "You know, for once I say we should listen to Hanna."

A chortling laugh spilled from the girl at his side. "She has her moments of wisdom."

"But clearly _you_ don't or you wouldn't be here," a third party spitefully added.

His head immediately snapped to attention at the grating sound of that loathsome voice.

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_review please! It delights my soul!_

_and shoutout to **choose joy xox **who faithfully reviews and really wanted to know who my second favorite Liar was...now you know!_


	7. Chapter 7

_awwww THANK YOU! Up to 50 reviews :) Keep em coming!_

I received some decent guesses as to who spoke at the end of the last chapter, but only one person got it right! Good job goes to

_**Emilyjayden101**__! Also, I know how you feel...I love writing cliffhangers but hate reading them.. ;)_

_LAST THING:: somewhere in this chapter is a reference to one of my all time favorite scary movies. Well, truly, it is a line that a lot of scary movies use, but this movie has some mocking dialogue about it, and I love mocking dialogue. Can you find it?_

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"But clearly _you_ don't or you wouldn't be here."

His head immediately snapped to attention at the grating sound of that loathsome voice.

Spencer edged a half step in front of him, undoubtedly wishing to avoid a messy outcome. "We're not here to bother you, Noel. Don't be an ass."

"Uninvited guests are a bother, Hastings." His haughty gaze drifted deliberately over her body with a provocative sneer. "Although I guess the scenery has improved at least."

An involuntary rumble scraped in the depths of Toby's throat. "I think you missed the part where she told you to not be an ass."

"Yeah, she's always trying to micromanage the little people. It's enough to drive a man crazy. But she must have _you_ all trained, huh?" A full glow of white teeth flashed in an insincere grin that left Toby seething.

Spencer inched another step forward, further separating the two boys. "God, do you ever shut up? Just go back to your beer pong Neanderthal fest."

Noel's eyebrows waggled in defiance. "See? So bossy. It must get old, being such an uptight bitch."

Toby lumbered ahead but his path was blocked as the slender brunette backed firmly against his chest. Her head swiveled sideways with a pacifying murmur—"Let it go, he's not worth it."

Her passive reaction only spurred their antagonist into further agitation. "Now that's not a nice thing to say. Of course I'm worth it." Noel sauntered closer, his head angling to gawk directly at Toby. "For how neurotic your girl is, I bet she's really good in bed. Properly channeling all that nuthouse intensity, right?"

A constricting rage detonated from his core, surpassing all rational thought that could have possibly taken root in his head. Toby soared past Spencer's slight frame and collided into Noel with a bullish force.

"Toby!"

The rest of the room blurred as the tearing impact rippled through him. A fist crashed into his gut, but he hardly felt it. He was too amped up, too far in to feel something as trivial as pain. He jammed Noel against the nearest wall, his own fist connecting with the other boy's jaw.

"**_Toby_**, _please!_"

His clouded brain clicked back into focus as Spencer's gravelly shout rang out for a second time, freezing him with its raw desperation. The instant of hesitation cost him. Noel swung upwards in retaliation, sending Toby staggering backward as a searing pain exploded through his head. He sloppily regained his footing and braced himself for another advance, but it never came.

"I'm not finished, Cavanaugh!"

Toby blinked heavily, his vision refocusing as a pair of guys he didn't recognize dragged a hollering Noel off into a different room. An unfamiliar set of arms had blocked on his own shoulders, serving as an unsolicited restraint to keep him from following Noel's unwilling path.

"Cool off man, come on."

He shook himself free with a slow nod, his fingers pressing against his mouth and coming away with the tarnished stain of fresh blood. He groaned at the sight, a pulsing throb hammering away as he loosened the hinges of his jaw and applied more pressure to his lip. He'd been hurt worse in his life. This was no tragedy.

But one look at Spencer and a completely different sort of pain stabbed through him. Her arms were crossed tightly over her abdomen, her entire face pinching together ominously with a startling blend of agony and frustration burning in her copper-rimmed eyes.

He took a stilted step toward her. "Spencer, I…"

She shook her head sharply and took a reverse step away.

"Spencer, please, don't be—"

"Don't be what? Mad? Upset? God, Toby, why would I bother?" Her tone was bitter, layered with an extra shot of roughness that exceeded her typically raspy undercurrent. Her feet shuffled backward again as her dark eyes skimmed across the hoards of intrusive spectators.

And in a show of distinctive Hastings decorum, Spencer rose to her full 5'7" stature and turned on her heel with a haughty flare of indignation, marching beyond the conspicuous watch of the nosy crowd.

Toby jostled past the gawkers and lurched after her, the residual aches from his brawl screeching in protest as he fought against the dispersing mob. "Spencer, wait!"

His appeal fell on deaf ears. She continued to worm through the narrow human tunnel without a glance behind. He doubled his pace, dodging past the jarring blast of a makeshift dance floor and ducking beneath a low archway. "Spence, hey, ple—"

Her mahogany curls swung and swayed as she abruptly zipped through a darkened doorframe. Toby lunged ahead, frantically wedging his body into the rapidly closing gap.

"I want to be alone."

A wrenching exhale fled his body without his consent, his eyes slipping shut as he draped himself between the door's pine casing and its peeling frame. Her statement had been so devoid of life, dead and detached like an amputated limb. As if he could leave her alone when she sounded like that.

His arm wriggled around to the other side of the door and found her, his fingers swiftly attaching to her tiny wrist before she could withdraw. "Let me in, Spence. Yell at me if you want, I can take that. Just don't shut me out."

Silence. He slumped further into the opening. "Seriously, it wasn't that big of a deal, okay? He was asking for it."

The door flew open without warning, throwing him forward with a bumbling jerk as he managed to right himself.

"It is a **huge** deal! How can you not see that?!"

He ground the heel of his hand to his forehead in resistance to the piercing syllables flying out of her mouth. "Look, I know I said I could take the yelling, but I lied. I did just have a fist lodged in my skull."

Her hands balled up at her hips, her entire frame rocking with a range of emotion. "Your very _empty skull_, Toby Cavanaugh! Why would you do that, you know—"

"Are you freaking kidding me, Spencer? I'm supposed to let some douchebag say whatever he wants about my girlfriend? Yeah, not happening." His words were muffled against the grating force that pounded through his entire jaw, but he was incapable of remaining mute.

"This is bigger than that! You don't get to throw your weight around and act like I'm some helpless princess in need of saving. We had a plan, remember? We were supposed to blend in and wait out our contact, not blow the whole party wide open the second we walk through the door!"

"I hate to shatter your illusion, honey, but we're not FBI agents and this isn't a sting." He cringed at the hostility that had seeped into his voice as he collapsed into a nearby chair. She wasn't looking at him, but her steely posture had only become further fortified at his jeering remark. He stole a calming breath and softened his tone. "I'm sorry, Spence. I know this is important to you, to us. But can you blame me? Tell me you don't enjoy the prospect of denting that guy's head."

Her head bobbed to the side with a reluctant half-grin. "You know I do, Toby. He gets under my skin too. But can _you_ blame _me_? He could be the one who sent that text. There's no way he'd talk to us now."

Toby squinted up at her. "You actually think he could have a part in this? Sure, he's slimy enough, but I'd never cast him as an evil genius. He's just a greasy, egocentric jock."

"Yeah and Mona used to parade around like some airhead shopaholic. That doesn't mean anything." She tapped her index finger against her chin, a methodical look absorbing her features. "Toby? How much do you know about Noel and Jenna?"

"Not much. I was already on my way out of the house when that happened and I've kept my distance since...no need to provoke the puppet master now that I've cut the strings, right? Why, what are you thinking?"

Spencer began to pace across the squeaking floorboards, her eyes ablaze. "Well Mona was with Noel…then suddenly he was dating Jenna…and both of them so close together…"

"Talk about bad taste in women," he mumbled lowly.

She slowed her anxious strides and stooped over him with a scolding look. "Toby, be serious."

He closed his eyes and let his aching head fall back against the chair. "I am serious. He's up to his ears in psycho with that track record."

The gentle touch of her fingertips met his cheek, leisurely caressing their way across the afflicted area that had taken the brunt of Noel's punch. He sucked in a severe breath when her thumb glided over the surface of his split lip. He cracked his eyelids marginally, watching sluggishly as her doe-eyed gaze darkened. "I don't like seeing you hurt...it's already bruising."

"It's not that bad." He chuckled dryly at her doubtful look. "I promise, Spencer, I'm fine. I did go to reform school, remember? This is nothing."

Wrong move. She tore her eyes away from his as cool air replaced the path her fingers had been sketching. For the second time in a matter of minutes, his fingers fastened around her wrist. This time, however, he exerted a bit of strength and tugged her down into his lap. "Don't you dare feel guilty about that. It was a long time ago and I came out just fine. We're way past that, okay?"

She nodded at him with solemn regard. "I just hate that it ever happened."

"I don't." Toby lowered his head until his temple brushed hers. "Nothing made sense back then. It was one huge question mark—what had I ever done to earn the wrath of people who barely even knew me? But I understand it now, Spence, I see the bigger picture. I got you at the end of all that misery. Something as awful as false murder charges brought _you_ to my porch. I know our lives are far from simple, but I'd rather have you in the midst of all this chaos than be alone anywhere else."

Spencer awarded him with a teary smile, her hand stroking the fine hair at the base of his neck. "Now how can I be even remotely angry with you when you say things like that?"

"You aren't supposed to be. Why do you think I say things like that?" he asked back with a teasing lilt.

"Vey smooth, Tobes." She rolled her eyes with faux exasperation before releasing a quiet chuckle and moving her lips softly against his. Toby surged forward for a more proper kiss, hungering for an official sign of ceasefire from their argument. His hands swept across her back, nudging her closer until—

"Uh mmm gahhh…" He jolted away with a garbled grunt, squeezing his eyes shut and clutching at his stinging mouth.

She scurried off of him in an impulse of frenzied effort, her hands wringing together. "Toby! I'm sorry, I'm _so_ sorry, I shouldn't have—"

"Mah fault, Spenner," he slurred back at her, his hand still cupped against his lip.

She couldn't suppress the smirk that formed in response to his incoherent attempt to placate her. Her fingers toyed affectionately with the unruly spikes of his hair, a twinge of remorse emerging as she thought over their whole situation. "How about I go I get some ice for that battle wound? It's the least I can do after you so chivalrously defended my honor."

"Oh s'now it's chivalrous?" An arching brow accompanied his muted words. "Par' of you thought it was sexy…admit it, Spence."

"I admit nothing." She delivered a fleeting kiss to his forehead. "I'll be right back, Mr. Macho."

"I'll be here, thinking of ways to atone for my bad behavior," he answered drolly.

"Aww, that's my boy." With one last peck against his skin, she strode out of the room and into the unlit hallway.

But she wouldn't be right back.

A brawny set of arms snaked out from the concealment of shadows, clamping around her with violent determination. Her scream of surprise was swallowed whole as a restricting hand blocked her source of air. She pitched headlong and twisted viciously, but all to no avail. Her faceless captor had no problem dragging her backward into the dark abyss.


	8. Chapter 8

_UH WHAT you are all amazing. Thank you for your reviews! I'm soooo happy...which means another update is here! That was only 48 hours between chapters so clearly I love you guys a lot :)_

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It was futile. She wasn't a quitter, but this was a fruitless waste of energy. Every squirm and lunge proved ineffective. The iron grip surrounding her was unpitying and the accustomed walls of panic were closing in. If she wasn't careful, she'd work herself into such a fit that she'd lose cognizant thought and then what chance would she have?

Her breath left her in a hiss of anguish as her body was slammed roughly against a grainy paneled surface. She blinked furiously to clear the scourging pain and anxiety that frazzled through her. From this new angle, she could vaguely discern certain features of her abductor—he was male, probably close to her own age, with light hair and a tall build. She felt another flood of alarm wash over her as an odd realization struck her.

She didn't know him.

Here she was, trapped and silenced by a complete stranger with the explosive rumbles of a full-blown party readily blocking any sound she could hope to make. She had expected a hooded figure—black or red—to be the one who had hauled her away…but this? Him?

Was he going to…?

"That's enough for now. Watch the door, please."

He nodded gruffly, giving one last vigorous shove before backing away. Spencer bit down hard on the inside of her cheek, doing all she could to withhold a whimper of battered compliance. If they wanted to hear her cry out, she wouldn't give them the satisfaction.

And somewhere in the depths of her brain, the delayed awareness of those words…whoever had called off the blonde guard dog…she knew…

"Jenna?"

"Hi, Spencer. Good of you to come." A shadow emerged from the line of bookshelves that scaled the length of the interior wall. The sinister sneer that crossed the girl's full lips was all too familiar. Her trademark glasses were in place, but who could ever know what that truly indicated. She gave a decisive nod to her cohort and with that, the door was shut and her exit was effectively obstructed.

Spencer tried to straighten her body against the wall and stand more confidently, resisting the desire to cradle her head in her hands. With a swallow of determination, she stole a long lungful of air and fixed her rival with a resolute glare. "You say that as if I had a choice."

"Now come on, sweetie. Let's not be ungrateful," she replied with a tsk.

"And what exactly should I be thanking you for? I don't remember asking for bruises from your boy wonder." Spencer's contemptuous tone left no margin for doubt. This clandestine meeting didn't faze her; it wasn't even slightly true, but a little bravado never hurt.

Jenna navigated a prowling route over the small space. "My apologies. I didn't tell him to be rough, but he's a bit overprotective when it comes to your posse."

"Funny, I usually keep good track of my enemies and I don't even recognize him, let alone know what I could have done to piss him off." She heaved off the supporting wall and crossed her arms, her eyes landing on a curtained window on the opposite side of the dim room.

"He's loyal, Spencer. Something you wouldn't comprehend. He knows that these glasses are a souvenir from your little escapades and that's enough to put you and your friends on the blacklist."

Spencer squared her shoulders against the intended dig, her mind whirling with a distorted array of black hoods and partial truths. Surely Jenna didn't know about her brief stint on the –A team. How could she? "Loyal like a golden retriever? Is this the new Shana or do you just have an army of robotic minions on rotation?"

The other girl lifted a scathing shoulder. "It never hurts to have some assurance in this town, especially with monsters like you lurking around."

"So what, Jenna? Have you ever had a friend…or a real relationship for that matter? All I see is an extensive inventory of disposable pawns and manipulated poker chips. Do you at least visit Officer Reynolds's grave every once in a while? Ask him if he'll save you a seat in hell?" She took a hedged step toward the window, her tone purposefully provoking.

"Garrett wasn't a bad man, Spencer. A bit weak, maybe, but not malicious." Her voice crackled with brittle disdain, like chips of stinging ice. "You run in circles thinking that you know everything, but all you do is strike out in fear and put on a good show…sometimes I think you're the one who can't see. You want it to be black and white, good and bad. Well I'm here to tell you that we aren't living in a storybook and it doesn't work like that. At least I do what I can to protect who I love."

"And who is that? Please don't even pretend that it's Toby, I couldn't stomach the hypocrisy." Another step to the side…closer…

Jenna's teeth bared in a predatory snarl. "You wanna talk about pretending? How about you stop pretending that you understand what we had together. Fool yourself all you want, but he was _mine_ first and that's not something any man forgets."

"God, you're s—"

A hand flew out to strike her unexpectedly, propelling her back into the wall. "Forget the window, it's locked. By the time you got it open, I'd have Nigel in here and I won't ask him to play nice this time."

"Back to faking blind again, huh?" Her words were sturdy but her insides churned with mounting horror. There wasn't a way out of this.

"Maybe I am. Maybe you're just predictable. I like to keep you guessing."

Spencer snorted derisively, less than impressed with the melodramatics. "Fine with me. It doesn't make much of a difference. You seem to accomplish whatever you want, whether you can see or not."

She was surprised to hear a tremor of vulnerability Jenna's response. "You can't honestly believe that, Spencer. I know your memory is sharper than that. I've had my fair share of hospitalizations over this last year in case you've forgotten."

"Is that what this is about? You want to throw accusations around? You needed to trap me in this room so you could point your finger at me?" She maneuvered herself closer, her jangled nerves merging into something a little more venomous. Her track record might be spotty, but she wasn't putting up with this. "I didn't push you in the lake that night and I certainly didn't set the fire at Jason's house last year…I was there with Hanna when she pulled you out."

Jenna held her ground, her chin jutting condescendingly into the air. "Switch to decaf, honey. I know those weren't your doing."

"Then why is there a guard at the door? Can't I come to a party without roleplaying a scene from the Godfather? I'd at least like my share of the cannoli if we're going to stand around in the dark like this."

"Just like Alison…all the clever quips in the world, yet you overlook the obvious." She shook her head slowly, her red lips twisting into a taunting smile.

Spencer narrowed her eyes with tiptoeing shrewdness. "You sent that text this morning."

"That's right, I'm the reason you're here tonight. Good girl. Gold star for you."

She flinched at the sickeningly false praise. "Cut the crap and get to the point. What do you have to say?"

"Haven't you heard the saying about biting the hand that feeds you?" she growled back.

"Yeah, but I've also heard the one that goes 'fool me twice, shame on me.' You've come to us before, you know? Waving a white flag, or at least claiming some sort of forgiveness. But I've seen a lot of ugly things since then, things that make you look just as demented as ever. Working with Wilden…with my sister…? Not really a trustworthy crowd to run with, especially after watching my friend's mom get blackmailed the whole way to the slammer."

Jenna shook her head again, but a different tension lined her face as she took a miniscule step back. "This is what I'm talking about. You're wrong, Spencer. You aren't the only one who's been living a nightmare since the day that gazebo was torn up. Did you ever stop and think that maybe you four aren't the only ones getting anonymous threats? I know you believe that the entire galaxy revolves around you and your friends, but it's bigger than that. It always has been, but it's only gotten worse now that it's out of her hands."

"Mona?"

"Of course, Mona." She fixed Spencer with a crinkling look of disapproval, her mouth pursed in annoyance.

"Tell me the truth, Jenna." Spencer worked to keep her voice even. This wasn't a truce she made lightly, but she might as well seize the only opportunity she could ever have. "You and Mona…something went on there, behind the scenes, didn't it? Before she went to Radley…you knew it was her, didn't you?"

"That's another gold star for you, Hastings." She leaned casually against the bookshelf, her head bent to the side. "I look out for myself. That's no secret. When I caught on to her game, I thought we could work out some mutually benefitting arrangement…but I never intended for it to be forever. She's a tad deranged about such things, as you surely know. I got what I needed and then I wanted out. She wasn't having it."

"The fire at Jason's…that's where this fits, right?"

Jenna nodded. "A lot of people were unhappy with the way things were going. We wanted to stop it, but it spiraled out of control without us even knowing what was happening. Radley wasn't the end. It was just the gateway for someone else to swoop in and change the stakes."

"Are you saying you know who that person is?" Spencer drew a baited breath and held it.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you? Me, just handing over the sensational solution to all of your problems?" She wandered across the room and doubled back, her fists swinging raucously at her sides. "Too bad, because it isn't that simple."

She pinched the bridge of her nose, her frustration spiking quickly. "What then, Jenna? Why are we doing this? I got the message, okay? You aren't evil, you've just been backed into a corner for the last million years. All of your allies are equally misguided because everyone's cage has been rattled. So what? That's just vague enough for me to still trust the wrong person and find myself six feet under."

"Then let me break it down for you, princess. Hanna's mom might be off the hook but Mona is hardly as white as a lily. She may not be in control, but she's still in it."

"That isn't breaking news," Spencer muttered.

Jenna stalked forward with a gritted jaw. "Fine, you want something a little more earthshattering? I think your old pal is the one who tried to drown me. And you know what else? I doubt she's as much of a pal as she's leading you to believe."

"I have more than one friend, Jenna. You'll have to be more specific." Her outward appearance remained unruffled, but her mind raced with rummaging skepticism. _Alison? There's no way_…

"Spare me the naïve act. You know she's as alive as I am. She ducked out when she had the chance, but Alison is still here." Each word sprang out of her like a punctuated stab of exacting truth, cutting into Spencer with chilling comprehension.

"I—I don't know what you're talking about."

Jenna lashed out, her barbed nails digging heedlessly into Spencer's forearm. She tried to yank away but her elbow only pounded into the wood paneling behind her. It took every ounce of her self-control to mask the shooting pains that tingled through her. "You do, Spencer. I'm not stupid and neither are you. Tell me where she's hiding."

"You think I know that? Even if I did, why would I tell you? What would I gain from that!?" Her frantic questions rose in volume. Surely someone would be looking for her by now. She needed to—

Something thudded outside the door. Spencer closed her eyes and awaited her punishment.

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_I'm sort of addicted to cliffhangers right now and I apologize for that. Review please!_

_p.s. this chapter was wayyy too much fun to write...scary Jenna is so boss._


	9. Chapter 9

_dedicating this chapter to **nevermindthebuttocks**. Your review meant a lot! While I can't promise a daily update, I can pledge to be in the 3%. Don't you worry, friend...I plan to break that curse of yours._

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Toby drummed his fingers idly against the arm of the musty chair, searching for any viable distraction to take his mind off of the intolerable sensation reverberating through his head. Spencer's disapproval was more than enough to spur his regret, but this was certainly an effective additional penalty. His eyes zipped over the dismal surroundings—a crusty futon, wooden chair, old CDs stacked around cobwebbed baseboards. The place could use a makeover. He attempted to pick a speck of lint off of his jeans, only to realize it was a stout droplet of dried blood. Oh well.

He bent to fix the laces of his boot—_bad idea_. Toby winced as fresh pain shot across his abdomen. Noel had gotten more punches in than he'd had remembered.

"I hate it when she's right," he mumbled sullenly to himself. Not that he would ever give her the pleasure of knowing it, but with the high subsiding, he knew her protests were well-founded. Ultimately, he'd accomplished nothing.

But with a small smirk of satisfaction, he also knew he'd do it again.

So he reclined further, closing his eyes and tapping his foot to the redundant beat that raged from down the hall. This was not his ideal Saturday night. Sure, the fact that he was sporting a bloodied lip contributed to his gloom, but it was more than that. Multitudes of his former peers, all yelling and drinking and morphing together into one unintelligent mass? Not his scene. It almost made him laugh. Most of these people would cross to the other side of the street just to avoid him, and yet here he was, supposedly partying it up at Noel Kahn's kegger.

No, he'd much rather be somewhere quiet, just him and Spencer. No blaring cellphones or monitoring parents. Most of all, no –A.

He hadn't worked with Mona for long, but it had been long enough for him to grasp the severity of her particular lunacy. He felt his skin crawl at the thought of her tireless ranting. Her inexorable fixation on the girls…it was beyond revenge. It was a manic disorder.

So he knew that logic didn't necessarily play into the overall structure of this –A thing. The new puppet master could be just as crackers as the last one. Spencer could sniff out motives and counterstrikes until the apocalypse, but that didn't cut it for him. Everyone hated Alison. Everyone hated her posse by association. There might not be an endgame. It could be as simple as a disturbed psychopath with too much time and money.

Or it was Alison. She was the queen of games, right? They were all her little chess pieces, manipulated dolls forced to sit at her abysmal tea party. Even in death, there was no reprieve. It was as if she'd never left.

And apparently, she hadn't.

But how could he say that to Spencer? She didn't want to hear it, couldn't even entertain the thought that Alison was the catalyst to this whole -A plague.

_Spencer_.

Where was she? The kitchen couldn't be that far off.

He leapt up immediately, gruesome panic spreading like a virus through his system. Forget a few bruises, they were inconsequential. She said she'd be right back.

"No, no, _no_…" he set off down the hall, following the flicker of strobe lights and a stream of half-crushed beer cans. He dismissed his earlier assessment—he now wished that he was an avid partier with an extensive history at Kahn-sponsored raves. Then he would have some clue as to where the freaking ice would be.

"You look lost, baby."

Toby frowned down at the tottering redhead who had materialized at his side. Her neon tank top was extraordinarily bright and too low cut. His natural disposition screamed for a quick removal of all uninvited attention. He didn't do this kind of stuff, but he couldn't afford to have a personality disorder right now. This was his opportunity. "Actually, I am lost. Point me toward the drinks?"

Her shrill laugh grated at his already rattled nerves. He shifted forward, confused at her response. He hadn't said anything even remotely funny. "Well do you know where they are or not?"

"Yeah, we're at Noel's cabin! Where do you think we are?" She broke out in more raucous giggles, her hands flitting wildly through the air as a new song came on.

Okay, this wasn't going anywhere. "Yeah, thanks."

He wound through another cluster of people, his eyes bouncing riotously through the room. A group of guys knocked into lamp, sending it clattering to the ground. Someone shrieked over the music. The distinctive stench of weed wafted around him. This was impossible.

"Toby!" His head whipped to the left, praying to see Spencer there.

It wasn't her, but at least he was getting somewhere now. " Hanna! Have you seen Spencer? I can't find her."

"No, not since we got here." She glanced around for a second, her eyebrows curving upward. "Aria! Have you seen Spencer?"

Toby followed her gaze, watching as Aria spun away from another conversation. "No. Is everything okay?"

He felt the crushing weight of both sets of eyes boring into him. Words stuck in his throat. His head shook in an almost imperceptible declaration of ragged concern.

Aria was next to him in less than a second. "Where did you see her last?"

"And did you really knock Noel out cold?"

"Hanna!" The brunette scolded sharply, "Focus!"

His anxiety level was rising at an alarming pace. "She left to get ice for my lip and she never came back. I thought she'd be with the drinks and I asked this girl for help but she was way too plastered—"

"Probably Brenda Wu."

"When did she leave?" Aria ignored Hanna's side commentary, her eyes bugging out as she swayed from side to side.

"Maybe ten minutes ago...I don't know."

Hanna swore and bit down on her thumbnail. She turned to him with uninhibited fear coating her face. "I was out by the coolers for a while before I saw you. I wouldn't have missed her."

Toby was ready to throw a few more punches. "Why, _why_, did I let her go by herself? God, I—"

A gentle hand braced his arm. He met Aria's unassuming scrutiny with wary apprehension. "We don't have to time for you to beat yourself up."

She said it so calmly, like she didn't have an ounce of resentment to offer him. He took her words and clung to them, nodding brusquely. "I'll go back to where we were before. Maybe she didn't get far."

"We're coming with you." Hanna latched onto his arm. "The last time I got separated from the group, someone trapped me in the phone booth from hell!"

Toby's pulse jumped, a barrage of similar –A scenarios playing across his brain.

"_Not helping, _Han." Aria shushed reproachfully. "I'm sure she's fine. Lead the way, Toby."

He did all he could to shut out the quiver in her feeble reassurance. The pungent scent of alcohol and perspiration splashed over him in waves. His stomach tossed vehemently with raw adrenaline. Someone could have dragged Spencer out by her hair and no one would notice in this place.

_Focus on finding her. We have to find her._

The search party of three bobbed past the outskirts of a mosh pit and staggered into the shadowy hallway where he'd last seen her. As expected, the room was still empty.

"She's not here." It was obvious without any mention, but he felt an absurd need to fill the dead air.

Aria wandered back toward the vacant hall. "Should we split up and hit different floors?"

"No, not happening, I will not take a turn crawling around the basement. Gross! And upst—" Hanna's discourse broke off as she joined Aria at the room's entrance. "Who was that?"

Toby slid past them and craned his head to look. "Where?"

"Wait…_there_." Hanna nudged his elbow, her head slanting along with her whispered words.

He sucked in a hard breath and dashed back within the cover of the door frame.

"Toby? Do you know him?!"

Both girls gaped at him, clearly awaiting some sort of explanation.

"Yeah…his name is Nigel. Caleb and I tracked him down at the airport Red Coat flew out of the night of the fire…but the flight plan was forged and he had something to do with that."

"**What**? You _and_ Caleb?! When?" Hanna's blue eyes were wide as her jaw went slack.

"Hey, keep it down, okay?" If Nigel heard her, they'd lose their only advantage. "It was before he left…back when your mom got arrested, we did a little digging of our own. He was worried about you."

Aria cut back in, her gaze silencing Hanna's inquiry. "You think he'd do something to Spencer? What reason would he have?"

Toby shook his head insistently. "More like, who is he working for? If he's pacing around down there…"

"You think he's on patrol." Her tone spoke plainly. She felt the same way.

Apparently his altercation with Noel was only meant to be the warm-up round. "Listen to me, both of you. Stay here. Don't let him see you. If it sounds like things go badly, call for help, but keep your distance and stick together. Okay?"

They looked up at him with distress scrawled blatantly across their faces, offering nods of confirmation. It was a welcomed response; he never got that sort of compliance from Spencer. He nodded back at them, then stole another peek down the hall. The blonde boy had just swiveled away, his attention concentrated elsewhere. Perfect.

Toby barreled past several darkened doors, his steps as subtle as possible while still picking up decent speed. Nigel's head snapped sideways just as Toby prepared for impact. The move worked as planned, his sheer tackling force catching the other boy off guard and flinging him into the rim of the door.

"What the f—"

He didn't bother to catch the end of that question. He threw his weight against the door and throttled the knob with animalistic instinct.

"_Toby_?" Jenna yielded her spiteful grip on her Spencer's arm, a hot glare of dissatisfaction contorting her features. "This was invitation only."

"Toby?!"

The room was nearly pitch-black, but both voices were permanently ingrained in his memory. He fumbled around for a split-second before his hand found the switch on the wall. A faded yellow light bathed the small room in a streak of diluted brightness.

"Spencer," he breathed out his two favorite syllables, crossing to her without hesitation. Her eyes were dilated with an acute look of torment that could bring him to his knees. Toby drew her into a tight embrace, tenderly rocking her shaking form and kissing the top of her head. "What the hell, Jenna? What is this?"

"No need for the hysterics," she muttered sardonically. "She's fine; we were only having a little heart-to-heart. What did you do with Nigel?"

The seething blonde appeared as if he had been anxiously awaiting mention. "Jenna, I'm sorry, I don't know where he came from."

Toby clenched his jaw as fury sizzled through him. The dots were connecting and the picture was ugly. "I always knew you were sick, Jenna, but I wouldn't have ever dreamed you'd go this far. You're tied up with **him**? With Red Coat? You tried to kill us in the lodge that night, didn't you?"

"Because you're Mr. Innocent? Please. I know about you, _all of you_. When the going gets tough, the tough get a black hoodie…that's how it goes, right?" Her repulsive smile was tinged with animosity. "You're as clueless as your girlfriend, coming in here saying things like that."

"Stop." Spencer straightened, her eyes bouncing between the two stepsiblings before transferring back over to Nigel. "You know him, Toby? What am I missing here?"

"Oh, honey, we don't have time to cover all of that right now." Jenna began to strut along the wall, her nonchalant demeanor suggesting that she was finished with the whole ordeal.

Toby watched with unease as Spencer purposely positioned herself as a roadblock in the other girl's path. Her voice was hard and flat as she loomed threateningly over Jenna. "We aren't done yet."

"Not your call, sweetie. Why should I show my cards when you won't show yours?"

Spencer swallowed heavily. To his immense surprise, she sidestepped toward the window and allowed Jenna to make her exit.

"That's what I thought, Hastings. Still letting that bitch run things straight into the ground."

What was that supposed to mean?

He didn't get the chance to ask. A deafening shatter of glass vibrated through the room, followed closely by a wrenching scream.

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_Thank you all for the reviews ;)  
Hope this satisfied some protective Toby-ness that you all expected! More of that to come!_


	10. Chapter 10

White bursts of hot terror seared through her. Everything went bright and black at the same time. And it hurt. It all hurt and she didn't know why but it was savagely ripping her into two incompatible pieces.

"**Spencer**!"

She was floating, flying, crashing. A high screeching sound erupted again. With delayed recognition, she realized that the horrendous noise was tearing from her own vocal chords. Something burned. She could feel it all around her, could smell its scorching odor.

But then she found him, his brilliant crystal orbs shining down on her. "Toby?"

"Please hold still, Spence, _please_. I know it hurts, but you can't touch it, okay? You'll only make it worse, baby."

It was only then that she truly took it all in—she was back against that damned paneled wall, but this time it was Toby who held her captive. His grip was firm, yet his gaze dripped with remorseful compassion.

"I—what…what happened?" Her throat was unimaginably dry.

Coils of acrid smoke wisped around her, triggering a spill of salty tears to trickle down her cheeks. Toby's mouth opened, then promptly shut again. His forehead creased with lingering horror. It was the same look he'd given her when he first entered the room, but her mind blanked on what had gone on since he'd stormed in. She could barely breathe. Why was her whole left side ablaze?

"You want to know what happened? It's what always happens," it was Jenna's voice snipping in from her detached location against the doorframe. "Disaster follows you everywhere. It follows all of us."

Toby's head whipped to the side, his jawline rigid. "That's enough, Jenna."

"I agree, it is enough. I've had far more than enough at this point, but until she acknowledges the reality of what's going on here, the disasters will keep on coming."

"Toby?" Spencer's raspy whine had his immediate attention, his head swiveling back to her. "My arm…"

His hand tightened over her wrist, the soft pressure restraining her attempted writhing. "I know, sweetheart. We'll get it cleaned up, okay? But you have to promise me that you'll stay as still as you can and—"

"Not yet." Noel moseyed into the room as if nothing were awry, his face fixed into a disturbing smile. A gleaming red fire extinguisher was casually hoisted over his shoulder. Even in the clouded confusion, Spencer could detect the smudge of a bruise marring the boy's jawline, the aftermath of Toby's blows. "No one is leaving until I say so. And I say you—" he pointed at the cowering boy at the brink of the hall—"you can leave now."

Nigel sent an imploring look toward Jenna, an unstated question forming in the scrunching of his brows.

"Just go. We'll talk later." Her words were clipped and apathetic. He did as told, slinking off soundlessly.

Noel crunched indifferently around the room, trooping over the glass remnants with that ludicrous smile still in tact. Positioning the extinguisher in his arms, he pulled the pin, threw it out the now-demolished window, and glazed the floor in a silvery spray. A groan rumbled from Toby as he wrapped a tender hand around Spencer's neck and propelled her head into the protection of his chest. She gratefully submitted to his guidance, shielding her eyes and nose from the unpleasant combination of obstinate smoke and dry chemicals.

"I think that covers it, Noel. The fire was practically out before you even got here." She felt the solemn throb of his voice resounding against her skin and oozing into her bones. It grounded her with its unfailing warmth.

"Thanks for the tip, Cavanaugh," he called out derisively. With one last gust from the mechanism, he turned back to leer at the couple. "But I like to hedge my bets."

"So do I," Jenna took a timid step forward. "What was it?"

Spencer kept her cheek burrowed into Toby's jacket but tilted her head fractionally to observe Jenna. Try as she might, the girl couldn't mask the quiver in her voice. She was shaken and it was no wonder as to why. Trauma by fire was all too familiar.

Noel kicked at the smoldering object. "A brick. It must have been wrapped in something flammable."

"It came through the window?" Spencer asked in a quiet murmur, her heart thumping faster as she recalled the catastrophic clatter from moments ago.

Toby's eyes brewed into a stormier shade of blue as he bent to examine her. "Yes…you were standing the closest…"

"That's his spineless way of saying that half the window is imbedded in your arm." Jenna's words were cruel, but the usual stinging tone was absent. Toby's muscles tensed anyway, his exhale whooshing through the strands of Spencer's hair. It didn't take much to put two and two together—he felt guilty.

She raised her head to scowl at Jenna, despising her for every hideous thing she'd ever done to the perfect man who held her. "This is the result of _your_ sadistic game of hostage. For all we know, you could have orchestrated this stunt."

"God, you didn't hear a thing I said before, did you? Put down the magnifying glass, Nancy Drew. I was in the room with you the whole time and if you think for one second…" her chin shuddered as she spoke past the hitch in her words—"if you think I would willingly put myself in the same room as a fire for the sake of an alibi, you are vastly overestimating my self-discipline."

"I…I believe you." Spencer's voice was small but sure. She'd seen Jenna in the hospital last time, and it was proof enough; this wasn't a sham. It was one thing she could instinctively trust.

Jenna blinked, presumably at a loss for a suitable retort.

But Noel was not one to miss an opportunity. "Then let's have a group hug. Ladies in the middle, okay?"

"You're disgusting." The speckle of malice in her tone was all she had left. Spencer's eyelids were lowering without her consent as she moved her arm in a subtle swipe against the wall. Any relief from this insatiable prickling misery…

"_Spencer_, no." Toby's fingers interlocked with hers, steering her arm away from the wood trim. She whimpered in response as her body slumped further into his. Toby's breath quickened, his voice laced with fervent persistence as he spoke. "Let us out of here, Noel. She needs to get to a hospital."

Noel stretched his long arms out at his sides, his gaze shifting indolently toward Jenna. "I don't know. Did you get what you came here for?"

"Me?" She toyed with the frame of her sunglasses, her bottom lip drooping into a pout. "No, I didn't. How badly do you want out of here, Spencer? All you have to do is say the password and you're free to go."

"What are they talking about, Spence?"

It was too much. Her skin felt hot and sticky. Her tongue was heavy and her eyes were still stinging from the haze of smoky scum. "It's Ali. They want to know where she's hiding."

"They…" Toby hesitated, hunching slightly to catch a glimpse of her toffee irises.

"She knows, Toby. It's why we're here. Jenna sent the text."

His brow crinkled together as he gaped over her head. The abhorrent duo stood as a barrier against the open doorway. "Holding us here is pointless then. Alison didn't tell her anything, okay? She can't tell you something that she doesn't know!"

Noel smirked. "Don't buy it. She'd keep her own clique out of the loop? Doubtful."

"Jenna," Toby puffed out the name like it injured him to do so, desperation coloring each syllable. "You were there, you know how I felt about Alison when she was alive. Would I keep a secret for her? Would I help her stay in hiding?"

She vacillated, her mouth twitching to the right.

"Seriously, why would I ever protect her? She threatened me too, remember? I lost a whole year of my life for something I didn't do. You think I'd defend her? After that?"

"Easy, you'd do it for the girl." Noel gestured at Spencer's fragmented frame. "She wouldn't betray the Queen and she's begged you to do the same."

Toby struck back, the tenor of his voice rising higher than she'd ever heard it. "Even if that were true,"—which, Spencer thought with a pang of bitter truth, it partially was—"there's no way I'd stick to it now. I'd give her up in a second to protect Spencer. You know I'm telling the truth."

The terse rise and fall of his chest was enough to make Spencer queasy. She bit down on her lip and clamped her eyelids together as the relentless piercing sensation raced up and down her side without absolution. She wanted to chime in, verify Toby's words, snidely insert a hateful remark that identified Jenna's role in the awful night that had changed all of their lives…anything.

But her only contribution was another excruciating cry of frustration.

"I'm sorry, baby, just hold on a little longer." His whisper slid over the shell of her ear, trailed closely by a consoling kiss. She did her best to nod in reply.

Noel rolled his eyes and released a mocking gag noise. "Yeah, darling, just a little longer…but probably a lot longer. I don't remember giving anyone permission to leave. We want an answer."

The portentous click of a cocked handgun echoed through the room.

"Screw you and your permission, Noel Kahn. I swear to god, I will shoot you in a hot minute if you don't get out of their way. **Now**."

Hanna Marin's blue eyes glinted with reckless contempt, her hand eagerly wielding the shiny steeled weapon.

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_Now at least I left you with a postive cliffhanger, right?_

_to those who beg for more precious fluffy sweetness...ummmm that chapter is on down the line but we've got to get these kids to safety first._

_**REVIEW. LOVE YA.**_


	11. Chapter 11

_I usually update more than once a week and I sooo apologize for making you wait longer this time around! It has nothing to do with all of you lovely people who made me giddy with your reviews. Especially grateful for words from (new?) readers **Nclhastings** and **DeathlyHallowsschoolgirl**. Both of you had such nice things to say about my writing style/structure and that means tons and tons :)  
_  
_Hope you all had a Merry Christmas! The holidays have kept me busy but I promise I'll keep plugging away! Also, these chapters with several characters intimidate me as a writer...the challenge of all the separate dialogue can be daunting but I'm working on it._

_Sorry for the long A/N. LOVE YOU ALL. This picks up right where Ch. 10 ends!_

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"Screw you and your permission, Noel Kahn. I swear to god, I will shoot you in a hot minute if you don't get out of their way. **Now**."

Hanna Marin's blue eyes glinted with reckless contempt, her hand eagerly wielding the shiny steeled weapon.

If it weren't for the fact that his girlfriend was half-incoherent and barely supporting her own weight, Toby would have collapsed with relief. It was slightly terrifying to see a gun in that girl's possession, but safety be damned, she could've come in with a rocket launcher and he'd be okay with it.

"You're bluffing." Noel pivoted, his zealous surveillance now divided between the couple at the wall and the blonde behind him.

"She's not." Aria joined in, her large eyes intent on the scene before her. "And if she can't pull the trigger, I will."

"But don't doubt my ability to pull it. I've been labeled as the impulsive one in this group and there are valid reasons for that."

Toby was surprised to hear a satirical snicker emanating from the fidgeting mass of amber curls bolstered against his chest. Apparently Spencer was still lucid enough to appreciate Hanna's tongue-in-cheek delivery. She lifted her head, her voice breaking and sputtering, but still colder than ice—"Just ask Jenna. Angry Hanna means business, doesn't she?"

Jenna's face pinched together as if she'd been forced to ingest something sour. He watched in awe as a complete reversal played out before his eyes. It was now Jenna who took the meek sidestep toward the window, her spindly fingers seeking the sleeve of Noel's shirt in a wordless request for him to do the same.

He didn't budge. "Come on, Jenna, they're only talking tough."

She smiled a strange, eerie smile. Toby felt a spiraling revulsion at the sight. He hated that smile. Her tongue clicked pretentiously as she tugged Noel away from the exit. "I'd rather not take my chances on that. They have a history of lashing out when provoked."

Reluctance rolled off of Noel in glacial waves, but he complied nonetheless.

With a clear route now available, a different sort of problem presented itself. Getting her out without further damage seemed impossible. How could they traverse the screaming chaos that awaited them beyond the isolation of the hallway? All it would take was one careless partier ramming right into her…

But what other choice did they have?

"Ready, Spence?" he smoothed the hair away from her bleary eyes, his throat compressing with an unwarranted dose of snarled emotion. If only there was a way to transfer her pain onto his own flesh. He'd take it in a heartbeat. Watching her like this was much, much worse than shouldering it himself.

Her head bounced downward and back up again, the very act seeming like unendurable sacrifice. He gathered her closer, took her uninjured arm and wrapped it around his neck.

"Hanna, Aria…once we get out there, I'll need you to do your best to clear a path in front of us." His voice was tentative. He couldn't imagine those two facing an entire block of slovenly drunkards.

"Don't worry, Toby. I'm little, but I'm big. Right, Spence?" Aria's hazel eyes were swimming with unshed tears. He wasn't the only one suffering at the sight of her in such agony.

Spencer smiled weakly. "Right."

He helped her hobble slowly through the door, her breath coming in fragile spurts against his chest.

"And Spencer?" Jenna's gouging tone sent a spray of fuming goose bumps across the back of Toby's neck. "If I find out you're lying about her, the consequence will be uglier than a few glass implants. I can guarantee that."

Hanna beat him on the retort. "Yeah, you'd know all about ugly, Jenna. This isn't a one-time offer, okay? Mess with my friends and I'll hunt you down with whatever weapon I can find. Now we're leaving, because I am so sick of looking at you."

She huffed off dramatically, the gun pointing haphazardly up at the ceiling.

With one last glower of agreement thrown over his shoulder, Toby returned his full focus back onto Spencer as they ambled behind Hanna and Aria. "I can carry you out if you want…I'm just afraid of…I don't want to make it any worse."

Her soft look of reassurance still had the power to dazzle him despite their dismal circumstance. "You won't."

That blind declaration of trust far exceeded his insufficient level of self-confidence. "But Spen—"

"Hey, we'll be fine, alright? I can hold onto your back and you just focus on navigation." Her lip trembled with each word, but her voice was sturdy.

"Okay. If it gets too uncomfortable or you can't hold on any longer, you have to tell me and we'll try something else. Promise me you'll speak up?"

"I promise, Tobes." He saw the forced courage in her dark gaze. It was just like her to be inconceivably brave at a time like this. If she were feeling more like herself, he was sure she would have regaled him with some Hastings motto that illustrated their Herculean possession of resilience.

He stooped before her, hardly even distinguishing the added distribution of mass as she latched on. Sometimes it scared him to think just how light she really was. It was hard to remember when she met every obstacle with a larger-than-life mentality. In all actuality, she was a tiny, wispy featherweight.

With her arms fitted securely around his shoulders and her legs curled around his middle, Toby rose to his proper height. "Are you sure, Spencer? Is it—?"

Her scratchy affirmation resonated from the crook of his neck. "I'm good, I promise. Just get us the hell out of here."

"Gladly." He nodded ahead at the awaiting girls. The blare of the party had only gained momentum in the wake of his last expedition through the main room. Spencer nuzzled her head deeper into the folds of his coat, the sensation both unnerving him and warming him at the same time. He couldn't fail her. Not again, not after all the hurt he'd inflicted in the past. She needed him.

Toby watched in disbelief as Hanna took off boldly, the gun still clenched in her white grip. Aria followed with an equally authoritative stance, her arms flinging out in a dispersing motion. The music absorbed their words before the sound could reach him, but it didn't matter. Whatever they were shouting, it was working. A path began to clear amongst the rampant pandemonium. It was as if they were the renegade reincarnations of Moses.

"Hold on, sweetheart." He pushed ahead, his eyes vaulting intently from side to side. One hand steadied her good leg, while the other was ready to guard against an unforeseen threat of any kind.

Aria glanced backward, her lips quirking into a victorious smile. They were already halfway to the door.

Until some stumbling fool came hurtling in from the left. It was gut impulse. Toby's arm sprang forward, his hand locking around the kid's throat.

"Woah, sorry bro. My bad, man."

The rushing adrenaline overtook his rational thought for just a moment longer than necessary. Then he snapped back to earth and relinquished his chokehold. "Yeah, no worries."

Toby moved past the guy, his steps coming quicker as he bridged the widening gap between him and the two girls corralling their way through the mob.

"Your Hulk instincts are really on point tonight." Her murmur arched toward his ear with a hint of teasing laced through it.

He tipped his chin sideways to murmur back. "You aren't supposed to be watching back there."

"And miss the visual of Hanna brandishing a gun on half of the student body? Yeah, don't think so." He could hear the trademark smirk without having to see it.

Toby shrugged lightly, not wanting to needlessly jostle her. "You can lecture me on the pitfalls of violence later, Spencer. For right now, I couldn't care less. I'm just following orders—'get us the hell out of here,' right? "

"Right." Her legs tightened at his waist. "I could kiss you right now."

"Please, for the love of God, hold onto that thought." Almost there, almost to freedom; he couldn't allow for any distractions, not even ones from her.

Aria threw the front door open as Hanna thrust the gun into the air, her inflamed eyes almost begging for someone to challenge their actions now. Toby ducked through the frame and carted Spencer behind him, the crispness of the air offering a glorious reprieve from the oppressiveness of the cabin. To him, it was a much needed contrast—the sweat on his brow was an indisputable combination of stress, exertion, and unadulterated wrath.

But the shiver rattling against his back told a different story. "Spencer?"

"I'm okay."

Her valiant pretense was fading fast. He knew what 'okay' sounded like and that wasn't it. They had to keep moving.

"Meet you guys at the hospital?" Toby clomped over the porch and down the stairs, his question posing as a mere formality. It wasn't anything personal, but his only priority at this point was the one clinging to his back.

"Yeah—Han, can I ride with you? Ezra dropped me off here."

She was already sprinting away, the handgun disappearing into her purse. "Sure, help them with the door and I'll go start the car."

Their competent way of springing into action impressed him, but it also served as a morose reminder. This was not their first foray into crisis management. He wished he could say it would be the last.

He rounded the side of his truck with a swell of optimism. It was their golden ticket out of this purgatory. Aria darted in front of him, her hand zipping toward the shining handle—and then abruptly freezing on the spot.

"Toby?" She whipped back to face him with vacant trepidation. "Is your front tire flat?"

An uncharacteristic string of lethal curse words flooded out of him. This was not happening. Not now.

"There's a lotta that goin' round lately."

Spencer's uneven remark reinforced the gnawing suspicion droning into the depths of his brain. It couldn't be a coincidence, especially on the heels of her trip to Ravenswood a few weeks ago. Someone seemed to have a nasty slashing habit and it was getting on his very last nerve. "I don't have a spare with me. I used it to change Spencer's."

Gravel crackled around them as Hanna's car lurched to an impetuous stop. The passenger window reeled to half-mast as she stared out at them with bared impatience. "Did Spencer have a miraculous recovery or are you guys throwing a siesta without me? Let's burn some rubber already!"

He blinked in horror while meagerly attempting to swallow back a groan. "Please tell me she's a safe driver."

Aria and Spencer snorted simultaneously.

_Fantastic_.

And the night was far from over.


	12. Chapter 12

_HAPPY NEW YEARRRRR! I'm still in 2013 here in the US...so wooohoo fun times tonight for us!_

_Disclaimer: If parts of this chapter seems choppy/trippy, that is most likely intentional. It's back to Spencer's persepective & she isn't quite herself :(_

_oh and speaking of disclaimers, I literally never remember to say this one...I don't own these characters or the PLL world. Only in my dreams..._

* * *

Her Koala-like grip was slipping. She had been gritting her teeth together, doing all within her measly sliver of control to stay attached to his muscular back. The sharp stabs that zinged through her were truly trivial. Mind over matter, right?

But she was swiftly losing that battle. Her limbs strained from across his broad shoulders, down to his trim waist and it was really irritating the taut skin of her abdomen. It was as if someone was widening those sizzling incisions with the torment of a rolling pin. _Mind over matter_. She bit down harder and exhaled slowly.

Black dots pirouetted before her. She heard Hanna call out, vaguely perceived Toby's panic-stricken comeback.

Hanna? Safe behind the wheel?

_Was he serious_?

Aria's snort—coming in harmoniously with one of her own—was almost enough to make her laugh. Team Sparia was in sync as usual.

But laughing would surely intensify the rolling pin effect and she was not having that.

"I have a flat, Hanna! We'll have to ride with you." She liked the way Toby's words vibrated into her. It was as if she was a part of him, an extension of his very existence. Maybe she'd forfeit her own life and just become an appendage of his. That might be a better alternative to her gig as Spencer Hasting, which was a less than rewarding role as of late.

"Well okay then." Hanna beeped her horn twice. "Get in losers, we're going shopping!"

"What did she just say?" His baffled question rolled through her with that same magical pulse.

Aria let out a profound sigh. "It's from _Mean Girls_. Ignore her."

Toby moved forward, his hand gingerly cupping Spencer's thigh as he stalked through the gravel. She felt like slipping, slipping, slipping under the current.

And off of his back.

"Hey, easy there, Spence. Its okay, you're okay. I've got you."

She didn't feel those vibrations anymore. Where was he? She didn't want to be separated from him, but she couldn't hold on any longer. Her feet brushed the ground. Was she falling?

"Spencer?"

There it was. The rumble of his voice had returned to her, channeling through her, making her strong. But it was different now. She wasn't on his back.

"Toby?" How long had her eyes been shut?

"I'm right here, Spence. Can you hear me? I'm here."

Her lids gradually fluttered up to revel in the marvelous warmth that sprang from his eyes. "Hi."

The frown lines marring his face gave way bit by bit, blossoming into the familiar smile she loved. "Hi, beautiful."

"Are we at the hospital?"

His frown returned. "No, we just left Noel's cabin…we're in Hanna's car, remember?"

She looked past him, saw Aria's huge eyes watching her keenly from the front seat, met Hanna's equally anxious gaze in the reflection of the rearview mirror.

And then she docked her irises back on that earnest pool of aquamarine. It was like crossing home plate. _Safe_.

"I…I remember leaving the party…Did I blackout after that?"

"Yeah, I think so. Not for long though." His index finger caressed a path over her cheek. Her good side was fitted neatly into him—her hip against his, legs resting across his lap, her shoulder wedged snugly between his arm and his chest. _Like puzzle pieces._

"D-did you see if the tire was slashed?"

The smallest of smiles shaped his mouth. "No, I didn't get an up-close look. I had this amazing girl who was sort of falling all over me and I was a little more concerned with her wellbeing."

"How gallant of you." She smiled back up at him, her head falling more solidly into his generous shoulder. "She's a lucky girl."

His head lowered, nose bumping against nose in a fond Eskimo kiss. "Funny, I thought I was the lucky one."

She nudged her face against his and let their mouths brush in the lightest of touches. "How is that lip feeling, slugger? The swelling has gone down a little."

"Why? You want to give it a test run and find out?" He paired a devilish grin with a complementary arched eyebrow.

"Hmm,_ maybe_." A tiny giggle fizzed up from her throat. "That was the thought I was supposed to hold onto, right? From your heroic escape route through the cabin?"

"That's right, there was an interesting remark back there…something like, 'I could just kiss you right now?' You owe me one, Spence," his breath was tickling the fine hair around her ear, sending sweet shockwaves all over. Her eyes slid shut in enchanted anticipation.

But an interjecting click broke through their secluded web.

"Hanna!" Spencer's groan was seconded by an embarrassed flush spreading across Toby's cheeks. "Delete that and focus on the road, please?"

"Hey, this is my car and that makes me the boss. You'll thank me later. That's bound to be an Instagram hit." She winked smugly, her phone still aimed in their direction.

"Oh, god no. Aria, confiscate that for me!"

The shorter girl snatched it from the blonde's hand. "She's right, Han, you should be paying attention…but aww, Spencer, it's so cute! You lovebirds were asking for it with all that cutesy chatter."

Toby coughed nervously, his fingers toying with a stray curl that had fallen over Spencer's shoulder. "Hanna, you'll want to make a left turn up here in case you weren't sure."

"Yeah, thanks Romeo. That's not gonna distract me from this." She shot a sassy grin backward, clearly pleased with her work.

"Just thought I'd try to help." He nestled his head into Spencer's hair, clearly still flustered.

"Uh oh." Aria abruptly dropped the phone to her seat and curved hastily toward the dashboard.

"What? What are you looking at?" Spencer was too drained to pry herself away from Toby, but her stomach was on the move anyhow—leaping downward into freefall. She didn't like the sound of those two syllables that her best friend had just emitted.

"What!? Guys, this isn't my fault, I swear…it was at least three-quarters full, I know it was!" Hanna's voice shook with a bout of anger and dread.

"Hanna? It's the gas gauge…?" No, not this too. How could…

She slammed her hands against the wheel. "I don't get this! It isn't possible! I just filled up yesterday after school, seriously!"

But the little orange arrow was below the one-eighth mark and still plummeting.

"It's –A." Toby's simple statement was delivered with ambiguous listlessness, empty of any passion.

That's what really got Spencer's attention and she wasn't the only one. Aria and Hanna locked eyes with a sinking regard. He was right, he had to be. His sedated apathy only drove the point home. This was deliberate.

"But why not give her a flat like they did to you?" Spencer's earlier attack of nausea was rapidly reappearing. "Why go to the trouble of cutting gas lines or…is it that artless? Can you just slice through a gas line?"

He shook his head briskly. "You'd need a hacksaw or something similar. It isn't some flimsy cable and it's usually tucked too high to damage accidentally. I…I think they wanted to lure us far enough away from the party…"

"So we'd be stuck in literal freaking nowhere." Hanna was steering them with an overwrought fury, a stubborn set to her chin. "Awesome. Just awesome. Let me guess—no cell service out here in the great outdoors."

Aria waved Hanna's phone uselessly into the air. "None."

Spencer didn't even bother digging for her phone. They all had the same inadequate carrier. "Turn right if you make it to that fork down there."

Hanna's scowl deepened. "I know you've been through a lot tonight, Spencer, but I hate to tell you that you're wrong. The road back into Rosewood is on the left."

"We'll never make it to Rosewood at this rate. Go right. My parents' lake house is that direction. We can walk the rest of the way and call from there." Her words were directed up front, but her eyes were set on Toby. She knew she was downplaying the distance between the car and her projected endpoint. There was no way she could make it that far on her own, not when she felt like a possessed spirit was trying to claw its way out of her.

He nodded somberly. "It's probably just as close as walking back to Noel's…and I'd rather not take my chances on going there anyway."

"Hell, no. We barely made it out of that shack, no way am I going back." Hanna coasted the vehicle down to the slight divide, drifting over the last few feet as her car began to sputter.

Spencer fought her rising panicky impulse, her fists clenching as she took a measured lungful of oxygen. This was ruthless…after being snatched out of the hall and then Jenna and the exploding window…and now they were out in the boondocks, exposing themselves as helpless targets. It was an obvious setup and she was drowning in helplessness. Why did she insist on dragging them out here tonight? This was her fault.

"Spence, hey…look at me." Toby's large hands framed her face, forcing her back to the present. His voice was almost impossibly low, his words lingering just between the two of them. "We'll be okay, Spencer. I'll carry you the whole way if that's what it takes. They haven't won yet."

"But they **will **win, Toby." She chanced a glimpse up toward her friends, but they were mercifully involved in a conversation of their own. "Whoever this is, they have a gigantic upper hand over us. This is a lamb to the slaughter situation and you know it."

His hands clamped down on her cheekbones, his eyes boring straight into hers. "Stop. You aren't breathing and I'm not okay with that."

She sucked in an exaggerated breath, her nearly black eyes flashing with mock cooperation. "Better?"

"Yeah, do that ten more times and then I'll be happy." He whisked a pacifying kiss against her temple.

"I…I'm sorry. I should have ignored that dumb text, but instead I bullied you into coming and now—"

"And now we bounce back and keep moving." His lips trapped hers for an instant as his fingers tunneled through her dark waves. "We could go rounds and rounds on the guilt trip cycle, assigning and re-assigning regret forever, but that doesn't help anything. Just breathe."

Spencer nodded with hindered resignation. Even if she had trouble accepting his statement, it was the truth. She knew the weight he'd carried with him for months; no matter what she had said or done in the aftermath of their anniversary, he couldn't shake that burden of remorse. Now he was returning the favor, ironically showering her with her own affirmations.

Her eyes lit on the sinister landscape outside the fogging window. The car had puttered to a complete stop. This was it. She leaned closer to Toby, inhaling his comforting scent and borrowing from his steadfast sense of composure. "At least let me try to walk for as long as I can. There's no sense in wearing you out from the very beginning."

He craned his head to gape at her scathingly. "Yes, because adding your whopping 90 pounds as cargo would really take a substantial physical toll on my body."

"Hey! I weigh more than 90 pounds!" She poked at his chest indignantly, but he only laughed in response.

Hanna spun around to pin them both with a withering look. "Would you two quit flirting for three whole seconds? This is a drire situation!"

"The word is _dire, _Hanna." Aria shook her head with a short chuckle, but the mirth did little to alter her frightened expression. "Are you guys ready to do this? I feel like a siting duck in this car."

"Yeah, let's go. The sooner we get to a phone, the better off we are." Toby stretched toward the door, his movement causing a small disturbance across Spencer's side. She'd been lulled into blissful oblivion since she'd woken from her brief stint of unconscious, but now reality was back with a bite. She was still a human pin cushion.

"Come on, Spencer. I'm going to help you out of the car and I don't care what the feminist manifesto has to say about that." His hands went to work without waiting for her permission, one stabilizing her good arm while the other circled her waist and guided her effortlessly into the slinking night. Her skin fiercely protested against the stirring uproar. Toby changed tactics, his arm gliding lower to support her fully from underneath her thighs.

"Toby…" she was huffing slightly, her lungs suddenly shallow. "You don't need to…"

But he was already depositing her onto solid ground, his arms steadying her as she found equilibrium. "Too late, because I did."

Their eyes dueled for a prolonged exchange—devastating concern etched into shades of blue, the conflict of half-drowsy and half-insistent blurring together in a melody of copper and chocolate. He hugged her to himself, his mouth hot against her ear. "Are you sure you want to walk? I really don't mind, Spence."

She smiled dimly against his neck. "I'm sure. If I can't do it, then you're back on Hulk duty."

"Fine. Stubborn to the bitter end. Let's move." He peppered a few short kisses into her hairline before releasing her. "Do you guys want us to lead or follow? She's set on hoofing it for now."

"Then we'll lead. You keep an eye on everything from behind, alright?" Aria linked arms with Hanna, her pert smile wavering under the moonlight.

He nodded grimly. "You got it."

Spencer reached for Toby's arm, but he dodged her touch.

"Hold on a sec." He was sloppily yanking at his leather jacket, hurriedly freeing his arms from the sleeves. "I don't really need this."

"_Tobes_," she couldn't let him do that. It wasn't necessary.

"Nope, too bad, it's yours." He was taking the utmost care, easing it over her injured side as if she were the most fragile thing in the entire universe. "Okay, all ready?"

His arm wove through hers, his warmth completely enveloping her like an affectionate armor.

"All ready."

* * *

_so that was A LITTLE MORE fluffy right? I gave the kids a teeny bit of a break. Thank you for faithfully reviewing. You make me squeal :)_


	13. Chapter 13

_a/n:: hey last time I forgot to say WOOOOWWW thanks for getting me at 100+ reviews! I'm in awe. Now that being said, did I lose some of you between 2013 and 2014? I didn't hear from as many as usual on the last chapter. I know it's been a crazy time of year for many, so no worries! Make sure you're caught up on Ch. 12 before starting this one :) MUCH LOVE._

* * *

She hadn't spoken in a long, long time. No one really had. Toby knew they were all tired, but the silence was starting to take on a foreboding quality. Every step toward the lake house was a step away from Hanna's car; it was an obvious fact, but a little unsettling nonetheless. What if this was a colossal mistake? They could have hitched a ride with the next group of departing partygoers that would have surely passed them by within minutes of their own exodus.

But the likelihood of someone coming along who had the space, wasn't intoxicated, and also seemed 100% trustworthy? Not so good. There were days that Toby was sure that Rosewood hosted a training camp of reprobate serial killers. Hitchhiking would have been an equally risky gamble.

Not that there was any point in turning back now. They'd been at this for a while now, probably nearing the two mile point. He'd only been out to the lake a handful of times, so the distance was fuzzy in his mind. Just a little longer, right? Over this hill, around the bend, past the next lane…until another hill crested before their eyes. It was like a storybook journey gone wrong.

He glanced down at the bundle of chattering teeth and quivering leather that was curled bridal-style against his chest. Spencer's eyes were closed with her mouth pressed into an unnaturally firm line. It's how he knew she was still awake. She was trying to control her reaction to the pain, a soundless sufferer. He would honestly prefer for her to let go, scream or cry or anything for him to measure the degree of her discomfort. But this was Spencer; she wasn't good with emotive release.

At least she was letting him carry her. There hadn't been much room for argument, though. It only took two incidents of near-disaster for her to concede, and he wasn't even counting all of the minor slips that she'd tried to camouflage as a casual lean into his arm. It didn't fool him. She wasn't as discreet as she thought she was, but that normal for them—Spencer pretending to be invincible and Toby seeing right through it.

"Oh my god, _finally_! Three inch spikes were not meant for nature hikes!" Hanna pumped her fist skyward.

Aria's head tipped backward with weary laughter. "Well said, Dr. Seuss."

"Toby? Are we at the lake?"

Spencer was fighting to lift her head from its wilted position against his shoulder, her eyelids making a flimsy attempt at opening to complete alertness. This was wrong. She should have been in the ER an hour ago and yet they'd only moved further away from the help she needed.

"Yeah, baby, just lay back. We're almost there." He shifted slightly, rearranging her a little higher to relieve the prickling sensation racing along his forearm.

Of course she noticed instantly. "Put me down, I'll manage the rest of the way."

"No."

"C'mon, Toby, you're getting stiff. If you won't admit it, then you're just as obstinate as you always claim I am." Spencer began to wriggle upward, her hand grasping the material of his shirt.

That was laughable. Him, as obstinate as her? Not possible. "Spencer Jill Hastings, stop squirming and pipe down. You aren't walking the last three feet. That's ludicrous."

Her mouth fell open in revolt. "It is **way more** than three feet. That driveway is enormously long and we aren't even on it yet!"

Hanna shook her head, angling their direction with a roll of the eyes. "I hate it when mom and dad argue."

"Spence, seriously, I'm not even tired." His voice dipped lower as he caught her gaze. "My arm was falling asleep, that's all. You barely weigh a thing, okay? I haul heavier loads than this at work, _all the time_. Hold still or that glass will soon be floating around in your bloodstream."

She pursed her lips irritably. "I don't think that's an actual medical probability."

"Would it be offensive for me to say that I don't care what you think?" He grinned boyishly, fully knowing that he was fueling her frustration.

"Would it be offensive for me to say that you're pissing me off right now?"

"Why don't we compromise?" Toby didn't wait for a response. He carefully coaxed her body into a standing position, but didn't allow her to take a single step before lifting her once again. His hands locked around the underside of her knees and she reacted automatically, an arm twining around his neck as her legs circled his waist. "Now you can feel like you're contributing to this process by holding on for yourself. Does that please her majesty?"

Spencer snickered into his ear, her fingernails scraping into the base of his hairline. "Her majesty does not appreciate the ridicule."

"But does she approve of her current station? Because as a loyal servant, I would hate to add to your agony in any way." The underlying strain in his question was undeniable. No amount of joking could overcome the hammering stress he felt at the thought of her hurting.

"It isn't any worse than before." Her eyes were glittering in the pale reflection of the moon as she inched her head toward his. "Thank you for taking care of me, Toby. I know I can be difficult, but I'd be shivering on the side of the road if you weren't here. Actually, I might still be in Jenna's holding cell of doom. Either way—"

"Shhh, just relax." He rubbed her back soothingly, his eyes clouding with a flux of affection. If he let her go on, he'd slip out of the hardened disguise he'd worked so hard to construct. He had to stay militant in his focus or he'd turn into a basket case at the thought of her in worse shape. Nothing about this night was settling well with him and he couldn't afford to dwell on it yet. Not until he was sure she was truly okay.

"I mean it, Tobes." Her weight was sinking more deeply into his frame. The little bit of exertion over the last few minutes was already catching up to her and he gratefully accepted the aftershock of her collapse. He'd cart her to Canada and back if that's what she needed.

"I know you do, honey." His jaw burrowed into her shoulder as his feet carried them forward.

The land sloped and tilted as they ascended the drive. The house loomed ahead and the sight of it sparked a blast of fortifying energy that coursed through him. He itched to sprint past Aria and Hanna, throw the door off its hinges, grab the phone and put an end to their series of incredibly unfortunate events.

But with an injured Spencer wrapped around him, that wouldn't really be the wisest of plans.

Detecting the altered line of tension running through him, Spencer straightened marginally. "What? Did you see something?"

Her whisper set his skin aflame in the best possible way. His hand stroked tenderly down her back, finding the slim contours of her figure that swam beneath the depths of his jacket. "Nope, just anxious to get inside and get you some help."

"You wanna know what I'm thinking about?" The silky pressure of her lips flecked his pulse point.

"That depends. You sound…mischievous," he hummed into her hair.

He felt her smiling into his neck. "You know, we were in this exact position not so long ago. Almost 24 hours on the dot."

_Oh good Lord_.

"You remember, don't you? I would think it was a pretty memorable experience." Her voice was spiked with a faux innocence that was making his heart race uncontrollably fast.

A heady vision of steamed glass, slippery tiles, and a very willing Spencer stole his breath. How could he not remember? Her hair dripping in dark ringlets against gleaming alabaster skin, her small husky moans bouncing around the enclosed space…and as she'd just indicated, her legs anchored on his hips much as they were now…but without a single barrier between them.

An actual growl tore from his throat. "It isn't nice to tease your boyfriend when there's nothing he can do about it."

"I was only sharing a memory." Her legs constricted deviously. "Is that so wrong?"

"Honestly, woman. How do you go from half-unconscious to _this_ in such a short timeframe?"

"Well," she muttered as her nose prodded at his earlobe, "I'm trying to think happy thoughts or whatever it is that shrinks tell you to do in crisis situations. I can't help that my mind wandered off to last night's episode of red-hot shower sex."

He quickened his pace, eating up the distance between them and their companions. "You're shameless, Hastings. Do your friends know how wicked you are?"

She chuckled into his collar. "No way. They think I'm as straight-laced and uptight as it gets. I like it that way. If Hanna knew I wasn't a prude, she'd be pestering me constantly with Cosmo quizzes and other horrid things."

"I'm sort of relieved."

"Why, because you're so adorably shy?" Her fingers swept through his hair, massaging his scalp with her feathery touch.

"Yes…and because we're right behind them now, so you have to quit seducing me."

"No fair," she cupped her hand furtively over his ear, "you're supposed to like it when I talk dirty."

"Trust me, I do." He arched his head away from her hand, not allowing her to buffer their conversation any longer. "But only when you play fair."

Both Aria and Hanna swiveled at that. "Never play any game with Spencer if you want to play fair."

"She even cheats at UNO, I flipping swear it's true."

A smug grin stretched the whole way across his mouth. "Wow, you have quite the tarnished reputation around here. Maybe you ought to consider some lessons in sportsmanship."

"Sore losers, the whole lot of you," she grumbled, twisting her neck to bombard all three of them with a disinterested glare. "Especially you, Toby Cavanaugh."

He smirked in reply, dropping a chaste kiss to the curve of her cheek. "I know what'll cheer you right up, Spencer."

She snuggled her face back into his shoulder. "I don't know what could possibly cheer me up more than the happy thoughts that you have so strictly prohibited."

"Why don't you tell me the best way to break into this house and then you can let me know what's better—teasing me with your wanton behavior or getting out of this cold and onto a phone line."

Her head flew back up. "We made it?!"

Aria nodded her relief. "Is the key still hidden behind the flower box on the window?"

"Yes, just ask Hanna. She would know."

"Hey, I haven't snuck out to violate the spirit of your Nana's couch in, like…forever, okay? I'm pretty much a spinster these days in case you've forgotten, Spence."

"Han, long distance and single are not the same thing," Aria retorted as she bounded toward them with the key in hand.

The blonde crossed her arms with a dismissive exhale. "Says the girl with not one, **but two**, men at her beck and call. And Bambi over here just cuddled into her bodybuilding boyfriend the whole way here!"

Toby edged his face closer to Spencer's as Aria clanked around with the locks. "I'm genuinely glad that we're still in the dark out here."

Her lashes brushed over his skin. "Why's that?"

"Because I'm blushing, Bambi. I am _not_ a bodybuilder."

"Sorry, but I'm with Hanna on this one. I've seen those guns up close and personal." Her tone was entirely serious but her eyes shone with impish playfulness.

"We're in!"

Aria's declaration interrupted all further chatter. Toby immediately stalked forward, shadowing the pint-sized brunette as she scurried through the threshold. The dim shadows slowly separated into solid forms, marking a ghostly path over the foyer and into the den.

He didn't hesitate. "You guys find the phone, alright? I'll lay her down and look for first aid stuff."

Instinctive acceleration flurried back into his veins—they were still in an emergency state, but it was finally coming to an end. He intended to take as many proactive steps as he could while they waited for an ambulance or police escort or whatever else. It could be Mrs. Marin in a minivan and he'd be appreciative.

"Here we are," he murmured quietly as he came to a stop in front of an old sofa. "All passengers must now find the appropriate exits."

"I'll miss you." Her voice towed a gravelly ambiguity. Why would she say that?

He laid her down with the greatest care, cushioning her unharmed side against the supportive back of the couch while doing all he could to leave the wounded portion unscathed. "What are you talking about, Spence? I'm still right here."

"Mmhmm. Can I have some water? I'm _so_ thirsty."

She was staring up at him with an unacquainted intensity, her skin glowing in the blueness of a nearby window.

"Yeah, of course. Will you be okay for—"

"I don't need a babysitter. I can be good for half a second."

Toby swallowed uncertainly. She'd fooled him with her performance over the last few minutes. It wasn't like her to snap like that, not unless she was under heightened levels of stress…or, in this case, pain. He nodded reluctantly, his mind whirring with dark probabilities. She could have a fever or an infection or who knows what else. Hopefully help was already on its way.

He made his way into the kitchen, his teeth nicking at his fissured lip. Maybe he should look for Tylenol while he was at it. They could both use a liberal dosage of medicated assistance.

"Hey, where's Spencer?" Aria stood in the doorway, her expression unreadable.

"In the den." He left the cabinet of glassware dangling open, his breath catching nervously. "Why?"

"Umm…" She moved across the linoleum floor with stilted dismay, her voice descending into a rutted undertone. "We have another problem."


	14. Chapter 14

_You guys are unbelievably amazing. I'm so grateful for you all! OH AND PLL IS BACK TONIGHT! (at least for me...I'm so sorry if that isn't true for you!)_

_To a guest reviewer going by the name of Leah:: did you have to say "LeAh" ? Are you trying to cyber bully me into updating?! I'm kidding, I loved the upper case "A." I totally made me laugh :)_

* * *

"I hate myself." She spoke out loud for no particular reason. No one could hear her, but that was sort of the point.

The wretched discord of her voice only furthered her escalating self-pity. Just the very sound of her was annoying. Why couldn't she get a hold of herself?

Her boyfriend should be nominated for sainthood. He'd just volunteered himself as a human taxi service and here she was, paying her gratitude by barking at him over the stupidest of things. Of course he was worried about her. There was certainly justifiable reason for that, even if she hated to confess it.

Spencer gathered the collar of his leather jacket up over her face, inhaling deeply and letting it go. All the pain in the world wouldn't excuse a misguided outburst against Toby. It was his coat that warmed her, his legs that carried her, his presence that sustained her.

And she wished that his presence would return quickly. Her sanity depended on it.

She sat up on one elbow, her ears straining for any indication of his imminent arrival. A quest for water couldn't take that long.

Distant voices melded into an indistinguishable buzz. One was low enough to belong to him, but it was all too slurred together for her to catch anything of substance.

Her head fell backward against the sofa. The longer he took…and the longer they talked…the more convinced she was of one thing—

Their nightmare was not yet resolved.

She closed her eyes and started conjugating French verbs in her mind. She had to redirect her own thinking or she'd do something drastically imprudent like throw a lamp or shred a pillow…or cry.

Like an answered prayer, Toby came streaming across the room with a glass of water in his hand. Every line of his face was leveled into bland neutrality, but even in the dim anonymity, she could pick out that one telltale sign of distress. His chin was particularly sharp and tense, cutting into the air like a well-honed sword.

"Do…do you need any help sitting up?" he asked in the kindest of tones, setting the drink on a nearby table and watching her with vigilant eyes.

"Please?" She extended her hand, the pain in her heart abruptly surpassing the pain in her side. He was nervous about setting her off again. She was a terrible person.

A light of approval surfaced in those cavernous baby blues. Toby encased her hand with his much larger one, tugging her upward while using his other hand to guide her capably against the backrest. He nodded with grave satisfaction, then reached for the glass and passed it to her.

Spencer let her hand graze lightly over his fingers before she fully accepted his offering. She craved the contact of his skin even more than she craved the liquid refreshment. "Thank you."

Her whisper reached him with a meek wisp of remorse. He sat down next to her, his hand cupping her knee. "You're welcome."

Those two words came with such cumbersome melancholy and she couldn't ignore it. She didn't do well with the unknown.

"Toby, what's wrong? I…I shouldn't have been so snippy before and I'm s—"

"No, Spence, please don't apologize. I don't need that, I know you didn't mean anything by it." His eyes were desperate as he squeezed her knee. "Here, take a drink, you said you were thirsty."

He was tipping the glass, his gaze set on her as she swallowed a few modest sips. They sat in a stretch of companionable silence, her hand reaching for his after she set the drink down. But Spencer wasn't deceived. She could feel an uneasiness in the distracted way his thumb stroked over her index finger, could read it in the twitch of his jaw. His mind was burning with the burden of something unspoken.

"Tobes…no one's coming, are they? We…we're stuck out here."

His head snapped to her side, the utter velocity of it surely causing some minor degree of whiplash. "Did you…I, well…"

Her hand clasped more compactly around his, her fears confirmed by the falter of his speech and the restlessness in his body language. "Whatever it is, I can handle it, okay? Tell me what happened."

The sigh that parted his lips was filled with weary despondency. "Someone beat us here, Spencer. The phones are cut. The power is out. And…still no cell service."

"Did one of you try to send a text message? Sometimes they can get through even—"

"Yeah, Hanna has been trying. I guess she was texting Caleb back at the party when I first went after you…but it's a longshot…and her battery is dying." His jaw flexed as his eyes plummeted to the floor.

"It's not like this—" she disentangled their hands and gestured at the length of her incapacitated side, "—is a fatal condition. I'll live, Toby. There's no need to dramatize it."

It was a miracle that she got that out without wincing. Not that it mattered. The bored look of doubt that scrolled itself into his brow was loudly communicating his thoughts on her downplayed report.

"That hardly won me over, and I'm not the only one in need of convincing." There was a strange sliver of caution in the quality of his tenor. There was still something, some lingering information that had not yet been disclosed.

Her eyebrows drew together in deliberation. "What are you saying? Or not saying? Hanna and Aria…"

"They think we should…" his nostrils flared as he sighed again, his shoulders bunching up toward his ears. He wouldn't look at her. "Spencer, they think…and I'm kind of in agreement…they think we should try to operate on our own."

"Operate?" She felt the tingles of comprehension washing over her. "You think that removing the glass shards **here** is a good idea?"

"Only if you're okay with it. Nothing is happening without your permission."

Every pinpointed prickle flared and scalded at his startling suggestion. She'd been trying so hard to banish it from her head, but now it all engulfed her at once. "H-how do you...I don't know if I c-can do that, Toby. I'm just not…"

"Hey, what did I just say?" He tucked a wild strand of hair behind her ear, his fingers taking up residence in her long curls. "If you decide against it, then that's that. You're the one who makes the final call, Spence."

She gazed up at him, her erratic heart beginning to slow at the quiet assurance in his voice. "What do you think?"

"Me?" He seemed taken aback at the appeal for counsel. "I didn't like it at first. But…as much as I hate to say it, there are no guarantees as to when we'll get out of here."

"I know." It was barely a mumble of acknowledgement, dark and deep with hopelessness.

His nose dipped against her cheek. "It isn't good for the chief ringleader to be out of commission indefinitely, especially not with the unlimited barrage of catastrophe that's circling us."

The tiniest smirk adorned her face. "And you trust the clowns with the ringleader's procedure?"

He smirked back at her. "I'm telling them that you said that."

"Toby!" She batted at his bicep in opposition.

He pulled back to examine her, not a trace of amusement present in his strident regard. "I know it sounds crazy, but they were very persuasive. Apparently Hanna is the world's leading expert on the strategic uses of tweezers and Aria is already rifling through medicine cabinets for the required supplies."

She blinked in surprise. "They were that sure I'd agree to this? My tarnished reputation isn't limited to poor sportsmanship. Control freak is usually tacked on there too."

"Hmm, well…they were pretty confident that I could sway you." He squinted over at the window, his posture stiffening awkwardly.

"So basically Hanna told you to make out with me until I said yes?"

His eyes were wide as he turned back to her. "How did you…honestly, you guys spend _way too much_ time together."

Spencer ruffled the spikes of hair that were gelled away from his forehead. "You aren't the first to say so."

He captured her hand and meshed it between both of his own. "What'll it be, Spence? I'm not manipulating you into this; it has to be your decision."

"Will you be doing this the whole time?" she asked, lifting their joined hands into the air and bobbing her head at their intertwined fingers.

He leaned in and left a kiss on the knob of her wrist. "That is my exact job description."

She nodded stoically. "Then let's do this before I change my mind."

"You're positive?" He watched her suspiciously. "No one will think less of you if you say no."

"I'm positive." Or at least close to positive…

"Alright. All aboard the Toby Express." He stood with a flourish, his arms outstretched.

Smiling at his silly antics, Spencer yielded to his invitation and secured her strong arm around his neck. He gathered her to his torso in one fluid motion, already halfway to the kitchen before she could reconsider. The door parted before them with Aria standing off to the side. Hanna hunched over a bowl that was positioned on the dining room table.

"Are you ready for your patient, Dr. Marin?"

"Almost Spencer, just sterilizing the equipment in your dad's 200-year-old Macallan." She glanced up with a serious gleam in her pale eyes. "You can set her down over here, Toby. Aria and I put some blankets down and we grabbed a pillow too."

"That scotch is not 200 years old. I don't even think it's ten years old."

Hanna threw her hands up theatrically. "Okay, who has the sedatives? I can't work with her correcting me like this."

"Got 'em." Aria approached with a water bottle and a pill-filled palm. "Down the hatch, Spence. Toby, make sure she drinks as much of that water as she can."

Spencer scrunched her eyebrows together at the mixed hand of little capsules. "Are you two sure about this? I don't need to be a victim of drug interaction on top of everything else."

Aria had the audacity to look offended. "We did our research! You don't think we'd take better care of you than that? It's just some aspirin and low-dosage sleeping meds. Now drink up so he can put you down."

"Yeah, you're gonna put me down, alright." Despite the double meaning behind her sarcastic reply, Spencer did as told and swallowed. Honestly, a little reinforcement wasn't such a bad idea.

Moments later she found herself horizontal on the table, staring up at three pairs of concerned eyes. Toby clasped her hand as promised, his grip a lifeline to her very soul. "If it's too mu—"

"Then I'll say something. But I'll be fine." She turned to Hanna with a vital air of concentration. "I trust you. Just do it as fast as you can."

"Okay. Hold still and I'll do my best." She tied her blonde locks away from her face and drew an encumbered breath.

In a flash of detached misery, Spencer felt the layers of leather and cotton being peeled away with caution as Aria flicked a flashlight over her bloodied skin. Her eyelids crinkled shut, the flow of oxygen becoming irregular as she felt the cold steel dance over her arm.

"Oh _god…"_

Her toes shriveled up in her boots and her head tipped brutally backward. How was she supposed to hold still through this? It burned so badly, the metallic shock and shooting eradication. She bit down harshly on her lip as a guttural sound emerged from deep inside of her. Forget her earlier disapproval. She'd gladly gulp a few more pills now.

"Spence…" his poor voice was labored and overwrought as her fingers dug violently into his hand. "It's okay baby, you're doing great."

She sniffled and tried to nod but the motion was eaten up in the aggressive writhing that overtook her.

"...afraid that I'm gonna stab her with these if…"

"...I know, I'll try."

A sudden heaviness flattened against her chest. She peeked up through snarled lashes. Toby's free hand was lodged steadfastly over her collarbone. "I'm sorry, honey, we need to keep you still."

She whimpered with understanding as another shred of torment rippled over her. Tears spilled over the brims of her eyelids, streaming from their creased corners and trailing sullenly into her hairline.

The whisper of a curse tumbled from Hanna. "It's all along her ribcage too."

"Keep going, Han. I want it **_gone_**." Fury seeped off of her tongue before evaporating into the next riotous wave of nausea.

Spots of menacing blackness bombarded her vision. Piercing, pulling, draining…all on repeat.

"Keep breathing, Spencer. You can do this." Toby's hand moved away from its post for a brief tour of her forehead, his familiar fingers clearing away the damp tresses that stuck to her pallid skin.

A splash landed on the slope of her nose. She couldn't understand how her tears had defied gravity and tracked vertically.

She forced her eyes open. Through the wrench of curdled anguish, through the sweaty sheen of queasiness, through the spray of her own tears—she zeroed in on the outpouring of love that swam in his eyes. The glassy reflection startled her. His tears mirrored hers, shining and slipping with the pang of mutual sorrow. He shook his head wordlessly, raising their fused hands to his mouth and sprinkling short kisses over her whitened knuckles.

It was the last thing she saw before losing consciousness.


	15. Chapter 15

_GUYS. I didn't get a trillion reviews last time, but literally I don't care because the quality of them was so so so sweet. Like really, thank you! And specifically to **SafePlaceToRead**, ALL CAPS ARE ALWAYS ACCEPTED :) LOVE IT._

_moving on, I sat and mapped out this whole entire story and as long and difficult as that was, I'm so freaking excited to make it happen. I've decided to basically use this fic as my explanation of the major plots that are presented on the show. I don't own any of it, but my theories are all merging together to create the future direction of_ **Flee The Midnight Sky. **_Hopefully that excites you as much as it excites me! Fingers crossed that I can pull it all off and still keep you with me. Don't worry, still Spoby all the way :)_

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The pad of Toby's thumb fanned over her furrowed brow, easing the unconscious fret lines into a more serene façade. She deserved a worriless intermission, even if it were only a temporary escape into a false dreamland. It had always gnawed at him, the knowledge that she never truly escaped the despair that unfailingly threatened her. Even in her sleep, she was haunted with veiled prowlers and the ghosts of those who were never actually gone—the ones who were supposedly resting in peace, but weren't allowing her the same luxury. It brought him some solace to think that this was a moment of undisturbed slumber, even if it were induced by merciless pain and a substantial dose of medication.

He was terrified by her colorless countenance. Yes, she was characteristically fair-skinned, but not quite this…_translucent._ It didn't help that he was only judging by the filtered light of the moon, or the earlier crude glare of a flashlight, but that was all he had. He'd checked her temperature at least three times since he'd transported her limp form up to the second-floor bedroom. Aria had finally commandeered the thermometer after he went in for the fourth attempt, insisting that Spencer couldn't have developed a fever in the space of sixty seconds.

But who could blame him? It wasn't as if luck had been on their side so far. And if he didn't check, he'd absolutely lose his mind…

Much like he almost had downstairs when her eyes had fluttered shut and her body stopped struggling. Hanna had been relieved, her task much more achievable without the added anxiety of Spencer's irrepressible shudders. Logically, he knew it was for the best. They'd given her sleeping pills for a reason. Still, the sight of her going abruptly static had sent a vile sensation through him that felt something akin to ice pouring into his blood vessels. Even now, he watched fanatically for the rising of her chest, his heart stopping and restarting with every graceful intake of air. Without it…without her…what would he have?

"I love you, Spencer."

She couldn't hear him, but that was okay. It felt better to say it, even without an actual audience. He allowed himself a tiny smile as he remembered the first time he'd declared his feelings. His brain had protested with claims that it was too soon, that it wasn't the right time. His soul, however, had soared when she granted him that blissful smile and returned the sentiment in precise Hastings style—playfully moping at the prospect of forfeiting first place glory. He always enjoyed besting her in the little things like that. She might be Spencer Hastings—the fastest, the smartest, the bravest—but he was the one who earned bragging rights over those three words.

Unfortunately, their current situation was much more bleak than the idyllic haze of that long-ago day. Spencer's slender physique was arranged with care, her back resting flat against the mattress with a fleecy blanket thrown over her and a pillow levitating her bandaged arm. Toby was sprawled alongside her, his fingers combing through her knotted hair. Every shred of him hummed with the instinctual yearning to take her into his arms and never let go. His fatigued body was begging for the nurturing familiarity that was her sweet embrace.

Yawning with bleary eyes, he settled for the connection of her willowy fingers, cradling her hand over his heart. Despite the doom and gloom of it all, he still felt a tug of attraction at the image before him. He was taken in by the wistful relaxation of her flawless face, a natural pout shaping her soft lips and her abundant lashes merging together in a glamorous line of dark fringe. The fact that she—a perfectly modern imitation of Sleeping Beauty—wanted him, a social pariah and all-around nobody with a horrible track record? It was beyond his understanding.

The dwindling vestiges of his adrenaline gave way to a lulling sluggishness. He couldn't help it. The arduous strain of the night began to seep out of him, his muscles finally unraveling in the hushed utopia. His mind slipped into a disoriented daze, indulgently envisioning himself in the sanctuary of his loft with Spencer contentedly at his side. It was safe and warm and theirs alone. If being with her was a dream, it was a damned good one.

* * *

_Thump. Thump. Crash_.

Toby sprang upward, his chest heaving with crackling panic. Was that real or was he—

A distant slam gridlocked his mental deliberation. _That_ was not his imagination. He closed his eyes for a fleeting instant, steeling himself for whatever new horrors awaited him. How he could nod off for even a minute was baffling and inexcusable. What kind of protection could he offer Spencer if he was under the spell of the Sandman?

His eyes lagged over her prone body. She hadn't stirred. Her arm was still draped across its perch and her head curved placidly to the side. He brushed his palm over her temple. Satisfied with the coolness of her wan skin, he replaced his hand with his lips and kissed her forehead delicately. The irregular drumming of his pulse gathered momentum as he embedded her angelic appearance into his brain. Whatever he faced, he faced it for her.

He moved with as little disruption as possible, sliding off the bed and into the hall. The blue-blackness of indistinct silhouettes and grisly shadows did nothing for his fumbling courage. This was a suicide mission if he'd ever seen one.

Creeping along the wall, Toby edged his way toward the banister. If only their intruder would make another booming ruckus, that would really help him plan out his defensive strike. The hideous quiet dragged on and on, sheathing him in its swelling suspense. He hated the darkness. It had never done him any favors, not with Jenna or as fugitive and definitely not as a member of the black hoodie club. He wasn't taking any bets on this particular venture having more success than those that preceded it. Gulping in one last breath of vacillating bravery, Toby slunk across the exposed opening of dead air and positioned himself at the peak of the steps.

Still nothing. Not a sound, not a flurry of movement, nothing. His clammy hand trembled slightly as he grasped at the wooden railing. Each creaking step spiked his already-jagged nerves. The stairwell squeaked and groaned no matter how he altered his tactical progression. It was useless. He'd already accepted it—he was about to earn sacrificial martyrdom.

So it really wasn't much of a shock when a pair of hands seized him from behind as he landed in the foyer. He jerked sideways and threw an elbow backward. His attempt was ineffective. There was nothing there.

He whirled around furiously.

A petrified set of teenage girls quivered before him, their eyes enormous and fingers pressed to their lips with a cautionary shushing. Toby followed noiselessly as Aria beckoned him through an inconspicuous door nestled along the casing of the stairwell. Hanna shut it quickly, her foot wedged to the frame. "Oh my god, I'm so glad you're awake!"

Her stage whisper was still too loud for him. He stooped precariously in the cramped space, his eyes adjusting to the windowless solitude of the prolonged coat closet.

"So we aren't alone, are we?" he motioned uneasily toward the door. "I heard a bunch of commotion and—"

"Well the commotion was probably _her_ fault." Aria nodded hastily toward Hanna, her tapered gaze casting the poisonous blame.

She shrugged in a widespread arc, her posture apologetic. "I freaked, okay?! That creep was about to see my spying through the window!"

"What creep? Who's here?"

"I couldn't tell. Aria heard a car coming up the lane and we didn't know what to do…then someone passed around the side of the house." Her eyes brimmed with fearful tears as she trailed off dejectedly.

Toby swallowed tightly. "Do you know if he came in? Did you hear the door?"

"I don't know, he was tearing past that window like his pants were on fire!"

Aria wrung her hands together. "I think…I think he was looking for the extra key…and he was mad when it wasn't there."

"Okay, let me check around for a second. If it's clear, I want you guys to go upstairs and stay with Spencer. Lock the door, shove every last speck of furniture against it, and don't do anything stupid."

He didn't care if they had objections, because he wasn't hearing them. Toby maneuvered past Hanna and scraped narrowly through the door. The steps were vacant, the house was still, and only the wind whipped against the windows. His gut warped with coiling dread. It looked safe, but looks were notoriously deceiving of late. With a beating instinct, he returned to the girls and signaled for their relocation. Just as Hanna was scurrying past him, a stripe of hope registered in his skull.

"Hey, where's that gun?"

She frowned at his muted question. "In my purse, which is in the kitchen."

_Damn it._ He started past her, but she cut him off tersely.

"Toby, don't…don't waste your time. It isn't loaded. I found it at Noel's but its empty."

"You mean…" a scuttling realization sparked a frown of his own. "Hanna, you were bluffing that whole time? In front of Noel and everything?"

She offered him a weak smile. "I said I was impulsive, didn't I? It was for Spencer."

He shook his head in boundless disbelief. "I'm so glad she has friends like you."

"And by extension, so do you." She patted his arm with a guarded look. "Be careful, okay?"

"I will, Hanna. Thanks."

They parted with a shared nod. It wasn't much, but Toby somehow felt taller as he glided down the adjacent hall. He didn't need a gun; his righteous anger was more than enough ammunition for this battle. If their mystery person was already acquainted with the house, then that probably meant they were working on the meager back door. It would be the easiest point of break-in, but he wouldn't be making it any easier.

As predicted, a rattling clamor reverberated at the rear entrance. It looked like he was already a bit late to the party. One hinge swung haphazardly and the rest of the door was distorted by the dent of an exterior force. With an internal mantra of _here-goes-nothing_, Toby pitched headlong and rammed into the door the entire brunt of his weight.

A garbled litany of expletives reached his ears as the evidence of his triumph. The trajectory of his method, though, proved foolish—the door met with brief opposition before giving way and continuing forward. The mildewed scent of damp earth was suddenly thrust against his nose and mouth in a dizzying upheaval. His head pounded with the enduring inertia, but a shifting outline in his peripheral roused an amplified reaction time. Leaping clumsily to his feet, he tore at the hoodie that was already up and racing a few inches ahead of him.

The disjointed tussle of colliding bones and indecipherable grunts lasted for a few ticking seconds until his opponent froze abruptly. "**Toby?**"

He wrenched backward, panting with his arms raised. It only took a flash of distilled recognition for a grin to break across his face. "You have no idea how happy I am to see you."

"So happy that you had to tackle me into a mud puddle, man?" The words came with the heat of irritation, but his smile told a different story.

"Seriously, Caleb. This is first good thing that's happened to us all night…and I know someone inside who will certainly agree with me on that."


	16. Chapter 16

_I should probably mention that I don't watch Ravenswood and I won't really delve too deep into Caleb's reasons for being there. If you want to talk more about that, feel free to PM me. I won't bore you with my anger on that subject. I feel as if **choose joy xox **summed that one up in the review box :)_

Also SHOUTOUTS! A guest named **lola** called me a writing ninja and told me to write a book so THANKS to you, friend! Also, thanks to **Booklover72** who not only left a lovely review here, but also backtracked through other stories and reviewed some of them. I'm beyond flattered :)

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He'd never heard anything quite so shrill in his whole life.

"I can't believe it! I'm so **_so _**glad you're here!"

Hanna flounced around giddily, her jubilation punctuated with ecstatic squeals. Toby wasn't usually one for public displays of affection—especially when enhanced with girlish shrieking—but he could concede that the circumstances warranted such a reaction. He knew the lonesome strain of time spent apart from the one you loved. Any separation from Spencer, even for a short span of a two or three days, unequivocally wrecked his sense of symmetry. It was a huge cliché, but it held true. He was only half of a person when she wasn't nearby.

"I missed you so much, Han," the shaggy-haired boy returned as he looped his arms around his girlfriend's waist.

It was humorous, really. Seeing Caleb with a flush of obvious happiness and an added tinge of embarrassment was rather refreshing. Toby had been the target of Hanna's teasing for the last several hours, but now he was officially off the hook and stockpiled with his own arsenal of extortion. Seriously, they looked like they were about to claw each other's faces off…in a good way. If it weren't for the fact that he was highly uncomfortable, he would have already commenced with the mocking banter.

As the reunited couple continued to coo in mushy undertones, Toby preoccupied himself with the task of rinsing the few dishes they'd dirtied. The sooner they could clear out, the better. Meanwhile, the love fest rolled on from the corner of the dining room as if he weren't in hearing range. Now he knew why Aria had so hastily volunteered to go check on Spencer.

"Seriously, Caleb, how did you find us so quickly? We haven't been here that long and you had a 90 minute drive..."

"Well the second you mentioned Nigel—"

"Yeah, what's with that guy? Why didn't you tell me that you knew something about the fire and—"

"Why, because you've always told me everything, Hanna?" It was a barbed retort, sharp and sizzling.

Toby cringed as he reached for a hand towel. This was an argument he'd heard before, but not usually from the perspective of a sidelined spectator. A piercing reticence crept over the room.

"It's true and you know it, Han. We've both been guilty of withholding information." Caleb's voice was much softer as he went on. "And in the spirit of honesty, there's something else I need to tell you."

"Oh great, should I sit down?" Her sarcastic undercurrent flopped and failed, giving way to a scrap of fear.

"Just listen. The reason I got here so fast is because I left as soon as I heard you were in trouble…and the reason I got _here_, to the lake house, so fast is… Hanna, don't freak out."

"Hmm. No promises."

"I have a tracker set up on your phone, just in case…"

_Good luck with that._ Toby snuck through the nearest doorway, officially surrendering his eavesdropping status and removing himself from the dispute that was sure to erupt.

"ARE YOU KIDDING ME?"

And like tenacious clockwork, that appallingly familiar argument flared. He had to hand it to Caleb; a personal tracking device certainly had its merits. If Toby had the skill set for executing such an idea, he would have eagerly done the same to Spencer. She'd be infuriated with him, but that hardly mattered. When your girlfriend's main pastimes included skulking around graveyards and mental hospitals like a degenerate episode of Scooby-Doo, you had no choice but to establish some protective safeguards.

_Like donning a black hoodie?_

No, he was too tired—both physically and mentally—to dredge up the ramifications of that particular decision. It was a low point he'd rather not revisit in his present frame of mind.

Toby wandered over to the picture window, his mind buzzing with impatience. They were wasting too much time. Sure, he'd expected a few tolerant minutes devoted to Caleb and Hanna's reunion, but now they were squawking at each other in a debate that neither one of them had a shot of winning. That was what it meant to be caught in –A's snare. There were no victors.

But who was he to say anything on that topic? Logic didn't come into play for any scenario that mixed the conviction of love with this level of high-octane risk. It certainly never stopped him from combatting Spencer's obsessive need for privacy, often with unbearably reckless measures.

A thud echoed from behind him. Swiveling his head to the left, Toby watched sympathetically as Caleb lurked into the room with the proverbial tail-between-his-legs scowl. "Any sentence that starts with 'the spirit of honesty' is bound to end with someone slamming a door."

Caleb shook his head with a fatigued look of agreement, his hands raking through his hair. "Trust me, I knew what I was in for when I started."

Toby nearly snorted at the deeper falsehood rooted in that statement. "Maybe tonight you did, but in general? None of us could really say that."

"Would you change it, Toby? If you knew all about –A and Mona and killers and lunatics from the beginning, would you have chosen the same way? Would you still be with Spencer if you had all the facts before you were in too deep?"

"You're talking to someone who did know. I didn't anticipate –A exactly, but I was all too aware of Alison DiLaurentis' vindictive postmortem noose. I mean those damned home movies, fabricated murder charges, blackmail…I should have been running in the opposite direction, but I let her in anyway." He fisted the sleek fabric of the floor-to-ceiling drapery, bunching and twisting it spitefully. Thinking about all of it on replay had him wishing for a punching bag.

"But do you ever wonder…"

"No." Toby smiled automatically, his restless actions ceasing. There was no actual doubt as to whether or not he needed Spencer, not even when they were at their outright worst. "And I don't think you really do either. You took a bullet not so long ago, man. If that didn't scare you off…"

A graceless harrumph signaled his reluctant acceptance. "Then nothing will? Yeah, I know you're right. That doesn't make me feel any less crazy when she gets like this."

"Trust me, I'm no rookie at the revolving door of white lies. The two of you were sounding eerily similar to—"

"You and Spencer? Oh thank god. I'd hate to be the only one." Caleb offered a commiserating grin. "So according to Hanna, you got the chance to bust on our buddy Nigel. Anything worth sharing?"

Toby sighed, his mind roiling over the chaos of the night. "He's working with…or for…Jenna. I don't get the dynamic exactly, but he seemed like nothing more than a lackey."

"That girl collects lackeys like most girls collect handbags," he muttered cagily.

"Well said." The older boy grunted at the thorough accuracy in his friend's bitter declaration. They'd both had the distinct displeasure of landing in the midst of Jenna's conniving manipulations.

"So do we think that she's behind all of this? The slashed tires and leaving you stranded out here?"

With another sigh, Toby rubbed the heels of his hands into his eye sockets. "Maybe. From the little bit I've gathered from Spencer, she doesn't think that Jenna's goal is…uh, it isn't just to mess with us."

He felt Caleb's eyes on him, but he refused to meet his gaze. This was where they ran into a snag. In the few weeks that he'd worked with Caleb, they'd always skirted past certain topics. He liked that about their partnership, the fact that neither one of them wanted to pry too far into the darker aspects of their motivation. They both wanted to end the cyclical madness of Rosewood's underground psychopathic society, but the specifics on how far they were willing to go and what exactly they'd unearthed on their own…well, they just didn't talk about it.

And here he sat, another undisclosed truth jammed between him and someone he cared about. He vowed to Spencer that he wouldn't tell anyone about Alison, but that's who Jenna claimed to be gunning for in the end. Toby wasn't even sure if the other girls knew that he was on the inside of that secret.

Thankfully, Caleb decided to gloss over his awkward answer. "And Mona? She's the obvious guess, but that doesn't mean it can't be true."

Toby snickered caustically. "Mona is **always** on my suspect list, obvious or not."

He made a curt noise of approval. "Do you think Spencer's okay to be moved? Talking about Mona and Jenna is giving me hives and I'm thinking we should probably get out of here."

"I am one hundred percent on board for getting out of here." He shook out the now-wrinkled drapes and began to move away from the window, but an almost inaudible pinging halted his steps. "Did you hear that?"

"Yeah, did you knock something off the windowsill? Some priceless Hastings artifact?" Caleb quirked a brow, his attention already diverted toward the kitchen.

"There wasn't anything on the sill." He knelt to the floor, his hands searching blindly over the hardwood. It was probably nothing of significance, but a dash of paranoia kept him from abandoning his exploration. If –A had been here—and cut phone lines seemed to solidify that hypothesis—then every minuscule inconsistency earned a second look.

And his paranoia proved to be well-founded. _Bingo_.

He glanced upward, his finger and thumb trapping a small flat disc. "Any idea what this is?"

The horrified expression on Caleb's face sent his stomach south.

"What? Is it a memory card or something?"

"No…it's a bug."

"As in…" Toby swallowed against the rising bile in his throat. "A listening device?"

A grim nod was all the answer he needed. He dropped the device as if it were burning his skin with its maliciously betraying force. The toe of his shoe squashed it immediately, a blend of terror and rage mingling into destructive acceleration.

Caleb put a wary hand on his shoulder, his forehead creasing and eyes alert. "You know there's gotta be more of those right?

"It felt good to do it anyway."

His words were met with a dry laugh. "I bet it did. Let's get the girls and go."

Toby turned toward the steps, but Caleb gripped his shoulder with an intensified zeal.

"Don't move." His low whisper was threaded with uninhibited panic.

"Caleb?"

"Someone's outside. I saw them…in the tree line bordering the driveway."

"_Them_? Plural?" Both sets of eyes were acutely trained on the spectral scenery outside the picture window, immobilized by the tiptoeing revulsion of what awaited them.

Caleb straightened. "There. Did you—"

"Yes. We'll have to go out the back way."

He couldn't tell if there was more than one silhouetted monstrosity, but he saw enough to know that they should have left ten minutes ago. Hell, they should have never come in the first place. It was too predictable, too…_guided_. This was all an orchestrated nightmare, he was sure of it.

Toby was at the stairs instantaneously, lapping them up three at a time. Caleb was right behind him, already calling out Hanna's name.

The two girls appeared in the hall, their faces pinched in confusion. "What? _What _are you two trying to do, wake the dea—"

"We have to go **now**," Caleb latched onto Hanna's arm, his breath puffing erratically. "Aria, you too. We're leaving."

Toby's heart constricted at the sight of Spencer in sedated innocence, her long legs tucked together and her silky hair strewn effortlessly over the pillowcase. He hated to be the one interfering with her peaceful refuge.

"Spencer, wake up, sweetheart." He shook her gently before racing around to the armoire and grabbing his wallet and keys.

She only murmured a few jumbled syllables, then huddled into a tighter ball.

"No baby, come on, we have to leave." He was trying to keep his tone calm, but the escalating drone of alarm was threatening to burst right out of his chest. Rounding his way back to her bedside, he pressed a kiss to her temple and whispered—"I'm so sorry if this hurts, Spence."

In a swift show of molten strength, Toby clutched her elbow with one hand while folding his other arm under her knees. Her body rolled lifelessly up off the mattress and drooped over the width of his shoulder like a broken ragdoll. His arm curled around the back of her thighs, securing her to him as he sprinted toward the steps. Her head bobbed steadily against his backbone with every downward stride.

_Please, please, please let us beat them out of here._

He thought he heard the rasp of Spencer's bewildered voice, but he wasn't willing to put his progress on pause to check. Assuming that the other three has already reached the arranged exit, Toby ducked past the entry and launched down the hall. It wasn't simple adrenaline that spurred him on, but an unquantifiable fire that catapulted through his veins.

A blustering surge of staggering magnitude rippled in with a bang, devastating his eardrums and cuffing at his cranium. The house shook and the windows rattled, knocking Toby's balance around with a punishing slap of anarchy. He lunged sideways, cranking his free shoulder into the plastered wall to maintain his narrowly controlled sense of stability. "What the…?"

One glance backward and his suspicions were confirmed. The wide window served as a portal into the hellish reality of the front yard. A concentrated blaze was climbing skyward, staining the cloudless night with a garish glow of orange.

A concentrated blaze…

A bang, an explosion. Flames.

Caleb's car. Their only hope of escape.

_Gone_.


	17. Chapter 17

_Hey charmedrocks33:I love to know that I'm not the only one sneaking onto FF at work :) Thanks for being a faithful reviewer!_

_Writing this chapter was weirdly sucky for me, so I apologize if it isn't the best! Love you all!_

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It wasn't the first time she found herself roaming in the foggy vacancy of an elusive memory. Her mind worked endlessly to sort it out factually, but these weren't places she consciously allowed herself to visit. She liked isolated numbers, itemized lists, straightforward timelines. There wasn't space for the messy mismatched pieces or unfinished stories; that's why she stuffed them down into the indefinite crevices, left there to rot away in the very back of her internal filing cabinet. Human complexity had little place in her methodical organization of good and evil. You were one or the other, that's it.

But as she looked into Alison's shrewd blue eyes, she didn't see good or evil. She wasn't sure what she saw at all.

"_You're dead to me already_." It was her own voice, colder and harder than she knew possible.

Ali had always been the nastiest kind of friend, the type who brought out Spencer's absolute worst.

And that's why she knew he was right.

"_The guilt was just too much for you_." Ian's eyes glistened with frantic hatred. He loomed over her, his unyielding voice carrying his condemnation as well as her own. **_Guilt_**. It was such a strange word.

Her head drummed out a monotonous rhythm against the headrest. This one was sharper than the others, the ascending altitude popping in her ears in a compellingly precise recreation. "_I admire you Spencer, so I'm going to let you choose how this ends tonight._"

She hadn't even reached for the emergency brake yet, but somehow her neck had already given in to the snapping momentum of an abrupt stop. The screeching was different this time, deeper, more profound. It vibrated into her bones.

But why?

It was a brassy distortion between muddled reminiscence and the concrete planes of reality. The car wasn't there. Mona disappeared. She wasn't on a road at all and this wasn't a memory. Someone had her, held her down. The blankness cleared away in slowly lifting tendrils. She was captured. Again.

Spencer threw her weight forward, wriggling with as much vehemence as she could muster. At least she had the advantage of surprise—her captor grappled wildly as she plunged face first toward the floor. She braced herself for a harrowing impact that never came.

The arms that imprisoned her were more agile than she'd expected, arching quickly to regain their grip on her woozy frame. She couldn't give up, couldn't resign herself to whichever version of the enemy she was opposing.

"**Spencer**, _snap out of it_. It's me, it's Toby. It's just me, Spence."

He was gasping heavily, the density of his muscled embrace surrounding her.

"T-toby?"

"Hey, there you are, baby. It's okay, you're okay." He was crooning softly, his azure serenade settling over her with the gentlest of overtures. "I have to get us out of here but I can't do that and fight with you at the same time."

Her hands settled on the firm structure of his upper body as she worked to find her center of gravity. "I'm sorry, it was all so real."

Another roar of confusion ruptured through her brain. Judging by the haggard cast of Toby's face, this one wasn't a byproduct of her lingering dream state. His eyes were focusing somewhere beyond her, and it was then that she noticed the odd flickering light that speckled over his drawn skin.

"We have to go." His whisper was so raw, so desperately unlike him.

Her spine prickled in surreal anticipation as she craned her head to the side. The source of the shattering explosion splayed before her, the dancing union of radiant fire and grimy smoke thrashing across the illuminated lawn.

The weakness in her limbs returned vengefully, the whole network of her skeletal system crumpling into deteriorated gelatin. "Oh my god…"

He boosted her upward, his arms locking around her without his earlier hesitancy. She willingly clung to his ample shoulders, her breath catching over and over again as she stared backward into the glimmering hallway. It was as if one huge candle fluttered perilously on the horizon, casting its fearsome spark over her whole world.

They hurried out through the back passages, the recoil of her sensory nerves reminding her of the recent trauma she'd undergone. It didn't matter. She wasn't about to ask him to slow down. Nightfall whistled against her exposed skin, bringing her even further into the shield of his dependable warmth. Only the stretch fabric of her navy camisole covered the top half of her body. She remembered Hanna removing it just before…

"Wait, Toby, _wait_…Aria and Hanna! They're still inside, we have to go back!"

Their path shifted, Toby's route skewing slightly to hunker behind a rusted shed that led toward the lake. Toby propped her against the roughened exterior, his gaze zipping raucously into the barrier of trees on either side of them. She reached for his face, her fingers anxiously demanding his attention. His large hands sheltered hers, keeping them at bay against his cheeks. "They left before us, Spencer. They're okay. We're meeting them out here."

"Then they're out here alone somewhere? I don't know how that makes them okay when there's a fire on the other side of the house and people hacking at gas lines and tires and—"

"Shhh, they're not alone. Caleb is with them, okay?" A series of calming kisses drifted over her brow and into her hair. She closed her eyes and memorized the pattern of his breath as it swirled into her scalp.

But then the unforeseen content of his speech sank in to her brain. "Caleb? He's here? Then we can leave!"

She tilted his chin with a penetrating jolt of her thumb. He slanted his head toward her, his lips briefly meeting with her thumb as his eyes filled with indecision. "That fire, it has to be his car. Someone…"

"Someone rigged it to blow up? How did we go from flat tires to an all out detonation?" She felt like tumbling to her knees and rocking back and forth until this apocalypse came to an end. A dull pounding remained at the crux of her skull, the groggy reminder of all she'd been forced to endure already.

"I don't know, honey. We need to—"

He spun suddenly, his back blocking her in against the shed as his full height extended before her. Spencer snatched at his pliant cotton shirt, burying her face between his shoulder blades. She didn't care what he saw or what he heard, he wasn't allowed to leave her behind.

She caught it the second time, a subtle rustling beyond the cover of their posting. Her lungs deflated despairingly.

"Aria, wait up! These are real Manolo's, okay? I can't ditch them!"

Spencer let a ghost of a laugh sputter out of her, the vaporous gust circulating into the stratosphere. Her vigilant boyfriend eased out of his guardian pose as he turned to her with a smirk. "How do you take her _anywhere_?"

Sure enough, Hanna and Aria emerged just moments later from the weedy perimeter of the shed, staggering unsteadily and whacking at the ivy with a jagged tree branch.

"Hey, over h—!" Spencer stopped midsentence, her eyes widening in shock as she watched a rather disheveled Emily Fields trail behind the other two.

Aria's eyes lit up as she spotted them. "Spencer, Toby, thank god!"

"You said Caleb was here, but you didn't mention…" Spencer turned to Toby, but he looked just as puzzled as her.

"This is the first I've seen her." He shook his head, smudging a baffled frown into his brow.

The girls eagerly clustered behind the shed, their voices all combining into one fragmented run-on sentence.

"…was that a bomb…into the trees…he's missing… Alison is gone…"

The leftover reverberations of sedatives and blunted pain warred in her mind, numbing her to the hectic stream of accumulating chatter. The earth sloped hazardously beneath her feet.

"Easy, Spence. You okay?" Toby twined his arms around her waist from behind, grounding her against his solid torso and dipping his chin into the crook of her neck. She nodded faintly, allowing her head to fall back against the outline of his collarbone. "Let me handle this."

She sensed the sweet swell of his lips on the hollow of her shoulder. Then, with his hands shifting to rub some friction into her shivering arms, he took command with a loud clearing of his throat.

"Hold up, one thing at a time. Hanna—where's Caleb?"

Her eyes creased gloomily. "He went around front after we heard the blast. He told us to find you and take care of Emily."

"Which leads to my next question." He pivoted marginally, turning Spencer with him. "Em, how did you get here?"

Spencer watched with concern as Emily winced at his inquiry. It was if she wanted to crawl into the underbrush and evaporate from their scrutiny.

Aria pursed her lips morosely. "You have to tell them, Emily. We've been royally screwed over at least twelve times tonight, Toby included. We owe him the truth."

The force of Toby's hold compressed more resolutely over Spencer's rattling arms. For all that they had weathered together, she knew exactly what that meant. He was just as uneasy as she was.

"I…" Emily's watery gaze shifted, her enormous eyes bounding over the gray landscape. "I came with Ali. She asked me to drive her out here…she said it was important and that you were all in trouble."

"Damn right, we're in trouble! So where the hell is she?" Hanna stomped her heel into the grass, her face flashing with fury.

"I don't know, okay? We split up to find a way inside the house and then Caleb's car went up in flames!"

Toby angled toward Emily, his one hand reaching to steady her. "Are you hurt? Were you close to—"

She reared away from his touch, her visage contorting in astonishment. "Why don't you look surprised? I just admitted that Ali's alive and you have no reaction to that?"

Spencer felt his body stiffen at the animosity boiling in her friend's tone. "Em…"

But Emily wasn't deterred "No, Spencer, don't lecture me. Here we are, all suffering in silence while you blab the truth the second we turn our backs! Paige thinks I'm losing it over something that happened two years ago, but that isn't it. We're all stuck in this time warp, reliving the past because now it's the present all over again. But not you—you told. You told him and that could cost Alison her life!"

The subsequent blanket of muted dusk collapsed around them. An unbridled trembling shook over every inch of Spencer's flimsy figure. She couldn't stop, could barely breathe. Toby gathered her as close as he could, but it wasn't enough. Judging by the rapid rising of his chest, he couldn't quite cope with his own disbelief, let alone find an outlet for hers.

The faded crackle of distant fire mingled with the solitary chirp of a forlorn cricket, filling the comatose air with their midnight music.

Aria edged forward. "We know you loved her, Emily, but flipping out on Spencer isn't a—"

"**I** loved her? I thought **all **of us did in our own way, but maybe Iwas wrong."

"Guys? What's going on?"

Caleb ambled unevenly over the patchy yard, his gait leaning heavily over his right leg.

"He's limping, _why_ is he limping?!" Hanna was off, her high-pitched distress carrying over the flapping breeze.

Another bristly gap settled over the remaining group. Spencer inhaled sluggishly, her eyes scanning the sparkling sky. She didn't dare look at Emily, not with the bubbling wrath mounting in the pit of her stomach. How could she come into this scenario and possibly spew a bunch of hasty disapproval? She had no idea what they'd undergone already, and now _this_?

"Did you hear me, Spence?" Toby's calming murmur stirred the fine hair that bordered her ear. "Can you think of anywhere nearby, any place that we could camp out and go unnoticed while we…regroup?"

God, he was such a good sport. She heard each cautious syllable, subtly chosen with the least harmful connotation possible. It was such a severe contrast to her own heated disposition. He'd been so strong at every wicked turn, had put on his sternest façade to challenge their various tormentors, but this was the real Toby Cavanaugh. This was the man who hated to aim any insult at anyone, especially those he considered friends.

She rotated to fully meet his eyes, finding a dim sting of angst that made her heart stutter. "Yeah, there's an old stable…it's on the east side of the lake, around those pine trees. The couple that owns it, they only come in the summer."

"That's perfect. Let's go then. All of us." His final three words sprang warily between Spencer and Emily, a pointed look dividing the brittle tension. "I'll check on Caleb and then we're out of here."

Spencer sighed as he relaxed his embrace, the chill of the wind now secondary to the one radiating from the girl at her side.

* * *

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